The Turning
by Wendy Dale Smith
Summary: COMPLETED. This is a version of Underworld 2 focusing on Selene and Michael. It is about stepping through thresholds…to love, hate, sex, life, death, forgiveness and – above all – to redemption. Chapter 10 is R-rated.
1. Painful Adjustments

Underworld - The Turning

Written by  
Wendy Dale Smith  
st7ci@hotmail.com

STORY COMPLETED APRIL 20, 2004

A story based on the original Underworld concept and characters created by Kevin Grevioux, Len Wiseman, and Danny McBride.

***NOTE***   
VERY special thank yous to Bronwyn/Moonmip and Nadia1 for beta reading this story. I could not have finished it without them.

***TO CONTACT ME***  
If you would like to contact me personally, please use st7ci@hotmail.com.

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Chapter 1

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

_Life, I have found…is a series of painful adjustments… _

_To escape the bloodshed of a war that no longer held meaning, Selene brought us to the safety of the mountains…to a refuge known to her alone…_

_Here we have hidden…since the night she killed Viktor, the great vampire elder, her sire. _

_Almost two seasons have past since that night…the night I came into being…_

_I am the culmination of a dead lycan's dream…Lucian's dream…I am a hybrid of both lycan and vampire…and, to most…an abomination… _

_Coping with that reality has been the most difficult adjustment of all…living with the knowledge that I am an outcast among outcasts…a monster to monsters… _

_Through this trial, Selene has been my mentor…my patient guide…without her, I would be lost…_

_I see her disquiet, her worry…winter is coming…the nights grow longer...and time is running out for us…_

_Soon they will come…they will find our shelter in the mountains, and tear it down…brick by brick._

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Michael decided to take a break. Carefully, he lowered the stack of shingles and sat down heavily on the pinnacle of the steeply graded rooftop. The sun had reached its zenith several hours ago and would soon disappear behind the western mountainside. He pulled off his fleece jacket. With a deep cleansing breath, he took in the magnificent countryside, amazed once again at the remarkable twist his life had taken.

The view before him was breathtaking. With its prime location in the Alps, the Montafon Valley of Western Austria was a large network of river valleys that provided a popular skiing destination for many Europeans. Relatively rustic and simple compared to the surrounding Alpine region, the Montafon managed to maintain a sense of timeless calm amid grandiose and rugged snowcapped peaks. The chalet-style farmhouse on which he sat was unexceptional, a common sight in this area of Europe. It was nestled in the remote southern valley of Vergalda, named for the tiny village huddled within it. From his vantage he could clearly see the village, as well as the equally small resort town of Gargellen in the middle distance. 

It was October. He eyed the autumn sun warily as it sank toward the horizon. Michael judged he had only an hour or so before its heat could no longer damage his sensitive skin. He burned so easily now, since the turning. _I miss being able to tan_, he thought for what must have been the thousandth time. He recalled that, as a medical intern, he lamented having no time to see the sun. The irony was, now that he did have the time, it irritated him. 

With a slight grimace, Michael felt yet again the sheer loneliness of the location. He would eagerly spot the occasional hiker or biker on the rural road below, but no one ever ventured into the quiet inlet in which the farmhouse sat. That was exactly what Selene wanted.

Michael sighed as his thoughts darkened.      

Selene had brought them here after they escaped Budapest, the night she killed Viktor. That journey alone had been a horrifying learning experience for Michael. They had managed to steal back into Ordoghaz to retrieve "some essentials," as she had called the weapons, ammunition and other mysterious items they had hurriedly stowed into an SUV. 

The mansion had been in complete pandemonium. While the majority of warrior Death Dealers went to exact their revenge upon the newly discovered lycan horde, those indolent and dissolute vampires that remained behind were at a loss without a clear leader. All had heard of the assassination of Amelia and the Council. Kraven and his bodyguards were nowhere to be seen. No one yet knew of Viktor's demise, or that Selene had caused it. 

Selene certainly did not enlighten them. Dismissing the depraved immortals, she ordered the few rookie Death Dealers left behind to continue guarding the gate. She left without saying another word. No one questioned her about the battle with the lycans, or wondered about the strange man who quietly waited for her outside. Selene almost regretted that no one tried to stop her. In her fury, she had been half tempted to finish the job she had started with Viktor. If it hadn't been for Michael and her desire to get them to safety, she would have. 

She didn't spare a glance back as she peeled through the gate, vowing never to return to that nest of vice and deception. Viktor was dead. For Selene, the long war was over. 

The thousand kilometer drive had started that night and didn't end until well into the next evening. Complaining that the trip would take twice as long during the day, Selene had spent the daylight hours sealed tightly in a modified black body bag. She'd given him no warning she had planned to do this. She matter-of-factly stopped the vehicle at dawn, relayed a list of tasks and directions for him, then ignored his discomfort as she unceremoniously zipped herself into the death shroud. Her last words had been, "Let's just hope the sun doesn't affect you." 

Selene was all business. In retrospect, Michael supposed she had acted that way for his sake, keeping him focused and just too busy to give into the enormity of what had just happened to him. She seemed to take the traumatic events of the previous forty-eight hours in remarkable stride. Michael, however, was a very different matter.

The entire drive, Michael could neither eat nor drink he was so incredibly on edge. He drove nonstop. With his new hybrid state, he couldn't cope with the sudden energy at his disposal. His senses were in overdrive. Abject fear, coupled with the disjointed memories from both Lucian and Selene, made him extremely punchy. After several hours of silence within the repulsive cloth coffin, Selene suddenly blurted out an inquiry to their location. "Where the hell are we?!" With a startled curse, he irrevocably bent the thick metal steering wheel and nearly sent them careening into yet another river. Selene didn't speak again until nightfall. 

When the sun was well below the horizon, she had unzipped herself and quietly moved to the passenger seat. Noting the bent steering wheel, she cocked an eyebrow and said, "I suppose doctors aren't used to hearing voices from body bags." Her tone suggested he quickly get used to those kinds of oddities. Gripping the bent metal wheel, he stared at the wet road in front of them, saying nothing for the remainder of their trip. Selene ignored his stressed emotional state. She began to explain what was going to happen to him. His education had begun.

She had bought the Austrian farmhouse back in the early 1930s. Taking advantage of a depression that spread like a blight from America, Selene had acquired it through silent auction from a bankrupt landowner. No one in the coven knew about the transaction. She had used money given to her by Viktor, just before he went into his long two hundred year sleep. He had advised her to invest the money quietly, warning prophetically that Kraven could become a problem for her. Because she had been turned by Viktor himself, the Elder knew Kraven would not resist the heightened purity and power she possessed. Viktor decided he couldn't leave his favorite without some kind of leverage.

Ever the eager young pupil, Selene had done exactly as Viktor advised, hiring her own human brokers while secretly learning to invest as the most savvy Wall Street tycoon. Time was on her side. Thirty years later, she had accumulated more than enough wealth to buy several castles, and more if she desired such decadent conditions. But a more clandestine accommodation had been her goal. The relatively small and secluded Austrian farmhouse had been the ideal find. Through the ensuing years, it had been a place to escape, a secret refuge in the rare periods she wasn't hunting lycans. 

Despite its remoteness, Selene had seen that the house was well maintained, even hiring a woman from the neighboring farm to watch over it in her absence. As time passed, care of Selene's home was inherited by the woman's granddaughter. Able to roam about in daylight, Michael saw the middle-aged woman at least once a week, much to Selene's discomfort. Selene never indulged in such familiarity with humans. She had always kept her relationship with her neighbors very formal. She let them draw their own conclusions about who she was. It was a safe bet any gossip would not involve vampires. She knew she had nothing to fear from them. And for the most part, Selene and Michael were left to their privacy.  

Gazing down the valley filled with vibrant fall colors, Michael acknowledged that if he had to pick one spot to hide, this would be it. He realized he couldn't blame his loneliness on this beautiful place. The peace it provided was probably the only thing that kept him sane as he learned to cope with who and what he had become. 

Michael knew the real cause of his dejection was something entirely different, something sleeping safely in the cellar below the house, something icy, impervious, and completely irresistible. To be so close to Selene month after month, and yet to hold himself aloof from her, was becoming unbearable.

From the start, Selene dismissed the emotions they shared those brief and dramatic moments in Budapest. "A temporary lapse of reason, nothing more," she told him their second night in the valley. She had been showing him where he would sleep. It was quite apparent he didn't need to be sheltered from daylight so she sent him to the second floor. As far away from the basement as she could get him, he noted grimly.

She tried to reason away what he had felt for her even then, what he had hoped she felt for him in return. "You're obviously being influenced by Lucian's memories. They will fade eventually," she said with an impatient disdain that would later become very familiar to Michael. But in the beginning, it just pissed him off. 

"And your memories? Will they fade too?" He couldn't resist the quiet taunt, or the satisfaction of seeing her wince. It had been the most disturbing aspect of his change, to experience someone else's memories like they were his own. To experience Selene's memories was twice as hard because she had so strongly imprinted her recent experiences. Many of them involved Michael. To remember her emotions, projected back upon himself, often left him holding his head in agony. Michael had felt nothing but relief when her emotions had finally faded from his mind. 

She had confessed her attraction to him and dismissed it all in the same breath. In Selene's mind, to feel such things meant next to nothing. "Look. You don't know me," she had told him coldly. "Worse, you don't even know who _you_ are. Not anymore."  

"You mean _what_ I am," he had replied, bitter and resentful. The change he had undergone had just begun to sink in, and the realization that he had not asked for it. Now he had nothing and no one but the woman who stood before him, and she was all but rejecting him. 

"Exactly," she finally said, refusing to assuage his fear of becoming a horror. "I'm sorry, but it's not my job to accommodate your urges. I'm not in the habit of rutting blindly like a lycan." She stared him down, not batting an eye. After a few moments, he looked away, completely at a loss for words. Right from the start, she'd had that ability to make him back down, to give in to her will. It was inexplicable to him how she managed it. No matter how angry or frustrated he would become, she would put him in his place with one simple cold look. 

She was heavy-handed with him, sparing him nothing. She saw no point. If the pain was unavoidable, better to have it come quickly and get it over with. Yet Michael still tried to resist the change. "So what…I'm just supposed to take this, forget everything I feel, and follow your rules without question? I just can't stop being me." he said incredulously. 

"Look, there's something fundamental you need to understand. The life you led before is over." Selene took deep breath, willing more patience. "I was born 127 years ago, yet I'm relatively young for an immortal. Since my family was…" she paused, Viktor's betrayal still a raw wound she could barely manage. She took a calming breath. "Since the death of my family, I've never sought my human life. Never seen the house where I spent my childhood. Never once looked for relatives, now long dead. You cannot give in to that curiosity, Michael. You are no longer that person. You no longer have a family." She paused suddenly, as if she were about to say more but stopped herself. 

Her words cut into him, as he knew she'd meant them to. Michael waited for some reassurance that at least she would be there, that he wouldn't be alone. He waited in vain.

"Do you understand?" she said instead.

Michael simply nodded. He couldn't help his crushing disappointment. She must have seen it in his face. He knew even by her world-weary standards, something profound had occurred between the two of them. He didn't understand what it was then, or why he felt the way he did. He just knew it was overwhelming him. For her part, Selene certainly did nothing overt to encourage his rampaging emotions. In fact, she came to avoid him most of the time.

At first, she had no choice but to spend the majority of her waking hours working with him, teaching him the basics of immortal existence. Otherwise, she explained, he would have been a danger to himself and to others. He had no idea how to deal with what was happening to him. He had no real understanding what a lycan or vampire was, what he had become. As a Death Dealer, she had knowledge better than most about the natural tendencies of lycans. She could anticipate potential problems in that regard along with whatever vampire traits that would also surface. The difficulty, however, came in predicting what aspects of his makeup would be lycan and what would become vampire. 

Realizing it would take time to answer that question, she immediately put him on a strict physical regimen, showing him the fundamentals of the defensive and offensive arts, much to his utter reluctance. She simply observed him as he progressed through his training. Eventually, they came to the hard-won conclusion that he had more or less every trait from both vampire and lycan, with his wolfish tendencies the dominant. He had all their drawbacks as well, but they were much lessened, as Selene had to repeatedly assure him. 

What was extraordinary was his raw strength and agility. It far surpassed lycan and vampire both. Coupled with his enhanced five senses, they gave him almost a sixth sense of his surroundings, much to Selene's initial alarm. She only became fascinated with that aspect of his abilities once she realized the trait wasn't true clairvoyance. Michael wasn't a mind reader, but he had a near precognition about someone's actions. Like a chess master, he was at least three moves ahead of his opponent. It wasn't long before he could easily overcome every move she threw at him, as he discovered one night when he nearly ripped her throat out. He had stopped his hand not a hair's width from her jugular. He could have killed her, and she knew it. If it bothered Selene that he was able to defeat her, even in his human form, she never revealed it. 

Over the ensuing five months, he came to unsteady terms with the lycan and vampire within him. He learned to drink the blood she provided, no matter that it still disgusted him, and during the full moon he learned to stay inside and away from wandering farm animals. Full moon was the only time the bloodlust would overwhelm him, made him crave raw meat and fresh blood, made him crave the hunt. He came to the basement one stormy June evening coated head to toe in blood and gore, from one of the neighbor's sheep, it had turned out. He had hunted it down and killed it, eating half its innards before his human brain realized he had just ripped an animal to shreds. He'd never been so sickened, and proceeded to regurgitate all that he had consumed. What he'd done horrified him. It had taken Selene that whole night to clean up the evidence. 

After that dangerously disruptive incident, Selene made sure he stayed inside and occupied with the most mundane tasks. He could control his turning as long as he remained calm and at ease. With that in mind, Michael expressed his desire to continue his medical training, to build a medical laboratory. He figured he could put it to good use discovering what was happening to him. She allowed the purchase of it with Michael's express assurance that nothing on earth was more tedious and serene than scientific medical study. Michael hated the fact that he was at the mercy of his emotions. He suspected his lycan instincts disturbed him even more than they did Selene, if that were possible. She told him "A vampire without blood would soon commit acts just as heinous," but he suspected she said that only to make him shut up about it. 

Learning her personal rules, as he thought of them, had been a whole separate aspect of his education. The first thing he had learned was to never disturb her during the day. Feeling sorry for him, she had allowed him to stay in her basement for that first night. Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep, exhausted, sitting up on the floor. Several hours later, he had suddenly shot up from his cramped position, in full nightmare panic and not at all awake. Michael's irrational mind had been convinced that Selene was burning up in the sunlight above. Intent on saving her, he immediately shouted her name and took off for the basement entrance. When he pulled the cellar door wide, the mid-morning sun shot a perfect beam of light down into the very center of Selene's subterranean chamber. Thankfully, she had slammed her bedroom door shut in time, blocking the burning light. She stood as far back from the door as possible, all the while shouting at the top of her lungs to "Close the bloody door!" 

That's when he learned how touchy vampires were about sunlight. Lucian's memories didn't hold a candle to first hand experience. When he closed off the light, she came barreling out of her bedroom at him, eyes electrified blue, fangs bared, gun in hand. He figured the pathetic look on his face was the only thing that saved him. Once it was safe to open the cellar door again, she unceremoniously kicked him out of her quarters. It was weeks before she left the basement door unlocked. 

Not all his mistakes were as catastrophic as her near incineration. He smiled involuntarily thinking of her face as she stoically controlled her irritation at his frequent, small mistakes. Except for full moon, his body pushed him to slumber at night. He was simply more human in his sleeping habits. He had tried to get into the practice of waking up several hours before dawn, just so he could spend more time with her, but even that wasn't accomplished without some upheaval.

All he had wanted one very early morning was a cup of strong black coffee. As an intern, he used to live off the stuff, and he had wondered if it would still do any good. Selene had walked into the kitchen and caught him staring blankly at a porcelain and steel coffee pot sitting in pieces on her kitchen counter.

"Haven't you ever seen a percolator before?" she said, incredulously.

"I think I saw one once…on TV," he said as he inspected the old-fashioned coffee-maker with obvious confusion, not completely lucid at four o'clock in the morning. "It was a Western, with a campfire…and cows..." he trailed off, feeling embarrassment from her blank look. "I'm a Mr. Coffee guy. How do you keep the grounds from coming through?"  

"You don't. Give me that." With a swift roll of her eyes, she snatched the pot from his hands. "Mr. Coffee indeed…You know, sometimes you make me feel incredibly old," she chastised lightly. 

He was too asleep to mollify her. "There's no coffee anyway," he lamented with a tired shrug.

She looked at him soberly, then down at the pot. She flipped it over, and he finally noticed it was completely rusted through where the porcelain had chipped away. "I don't drink coffee," she said softly, reflectively. "Tea," she said, clearing her voice uncomfortably. "I drank tea." She looked away, clearly thinking of some long forgotten memory.

"Oh," was all he could mumble. Michael realized the coffeemaker was at least fifty years old, if not much older. He had wondered why she kept in the first place. 

Selene bought him a brand new coffeemaker that very next night. And though he never requested it, she made him coffee every morning. To Michael's relief, the stuff still worked. Sometimes the smell of it alone would wake him. He felt guilty that he took such pleasure in Selene performing this one simple chore for him. She'd already done enough for him in practically every other respect. With a pang of shame at his selfishness, he realized it wasn't enough that she guided him, took care of him. None of it compensated for the one thing he really wanted. Michael shook his head at his own stupidity. For the millionth time he wondered how he ended up falling for a woman so completely out of his league.

Finding his self pity repulsive, he quickly brought his mind back to his current predicament. He was never going to get back to his lab work if he didn't finish fixing the damned roof.

He was repairing a hole in the main roof, one that revealed itself in a steady maddening drip that appeared in his room every time it rained. Selene had shrugged dismissively when he mentioned it. "I have a man come by once a year, in the spring, to take care of any minor problems with the house or grounds. You can either fix it yourself, or deal with it until he arrives." Figuring he would slit his wrists before then, Michael decided to fix it himself. He had experienced one grueling summer job as a construction worker. He could repair a few shingles. He spun around to grab the hammer hanging from his tool belt, thinking how good it felt to be out in the crisp fresh air. 

Suddenly, his cell phone beeped loudly, for the very first time. 

Twisted in a precarious position, the unexpected sound sent him jerking in the opposite direction, and he slipped. With a loud "SHIT!" he slid down the steep incline. He tried to stop himself, reaching out with both hands, but his powerful fingers simply dug into the shingled roof like butter. Wood and debris flew into the air he slid off feet first. Feeling the sickening sensation of nothingness, Michael quickly balanced himself in midair, landing neatly on his feet three and a half stories below. The wood and debris quickly followed. He ducked his head as it rained down on him. 

Now covered in the remains of the roof, he shook his head like a dog. He looked up just in time to see his hammer coming right toward his head. With lightening speed, he jumped to the side as it impaled itself in the ground at his feet. He glanced at it, at the claw end buried in the hard dirt. He figured now he had a few more holes in the roof to deal with. "Selene is going to kill me," he whispered, feeling a rising panic.

Suddenly, he frowned. The cell phone was still beeping. He could hear it. It was now somewhere up on the roof. With another loud "Shit!" he couched low and jumped. With preternatural strength he leapt the three stories, gripping the roofs edge as he flipped himself to a standing position. Eyes scrambling about, he quickly spotted the cell phone. Picking it up, he rapidly schooled his panting breath. He flipped open the small cell phone. "Yeah," he said coolly. He managed to sound calm enough.

"What was that noise?" It was Selene of course. It was her cell phone she insisted he carry during the day. _Good idea._ Swallowing with difficulty, he looked down at the twin furrows he had just plowed into her rooftop. 

"Nothing," he managed to get out in a half whisper, half growl, the guilt instantly eating at him. He looked at his hands. It was going to take days to get out all the splinters. But he felt no pain. Had he been human, he certainly would have broken his neck. Falling off the roof, and ripping a huge whole through it in the process, was mortifying enough. Selene would never let him hear the end of it. That is, if she found out about it, which she wouldn't.

"Are you all right?" Now she was sounding concerned. He was touched, but he wished she would just shut up for one second. He looked up at sky, taking a deep breath, trying desperately to rid himself of the self-disgust he was feeling at the moment. _God, I hope it doesn't rain in the next couple days._

"Michael!" she barked, getting angry. 

He could tell she was frustrated at her inability to investigate. He thanked heaven she couldn't come out in the daylight. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine. What?" he said a bit tersely. He knew he should have listened to her and let the maintenance guy, whoever he was, come and fix the roof. But it was her fault he fell in the first place. He deserved to sound a little irritated. 

Just a little.

Ignoring his tone, she said "Can you come down here? There's something important I need to show you." It was not a request.

Raising his eyebrows, Michael couldn't help but think of several important things she needed to show him. "Fine," he said instead, employing what he thought was heroic restraint. She hung up. He slapped the phone shut and tossed it in the general direction of the ground twelve meters below. With a sneer of satisfaction, he heard it shatter.

No more phone.

~.~.~.~

Fifteen minutes later, and none the worse for wear, Michael hesitantly entered the basement, Selene's private domain. Michael had often found himself pacing the secret entrance above, trying to come up with some excuse to intrude without permission. He knew she kept the really interesting stuff in her bedroom, but the door was always firmly closed. He barely had time to give the main room a curious glance when Selene burst out of her bedroom, walking determinedly toward a smaller alcove in the corner. "Over here. What kept you?" she said in annoyance.

He shrugged in reply and followed her. She wasn't wearing the loose-fitting black sweats she liked to wear when training him in hand-to-hand tactics. He sighed, relieved that she no longer used him as her living punching bag. She was dressed simply in a navy tank, black leathers, and her favorite pair of military issue combat boots. Everything fit snugly, as she preferred, "so nothing could accidentally get caught or used as leverage in a fight." _Yeah, cause that happens a lot here in the cellar in the Alps._ He knew she behaved that way out of habit. It just got annoying when she tried to make him do the same. Leather made him sweat in the worst way. He liked cotton. Irresistibly, he snuck a glance at her backside. Quelling a lust-ridden smile, he had to admit he really didn't mind this particular habit of hers after all. 

She escorted him to the barred room in a corner of the workout area. Living in Selene's private home over five months now, he still found it odd that her personal area, apart from the attached cavernous bedroom he could just see through the opened door, contained a fully appointed workout facility and armory. It looked like it had been a wine cellar at some point. The weapons stash she kept locked behind iron bars was fit for a small militia. _Or a military museum_, he thought as some of the weapons were relics from a previous era. Everything was in pristine condition. He shook his head in silent wonder.

"Since your hand-to-hand training is coming along nicely, I think it's time you started learning at a more advanced level." The iron gate stood open. A ceiling lamp glared light upon a worktable strewn with modern weapons in various stages of disassembly. She rounded the table and sat on a well-worn wooden stool, picking up what looked like a cross between one of her pistols and a machine gun. Wasting no time with preliminaries, she went immediately into her lecture. 

"The TMP is not my weapon of choice, but it's ideal for beginners. It's quite simple to operate really." She unloaded the magazine as she spoke, and pulled the ejection port so quickly Michael didn't catch the motion. She then stood and moved next to him and held the weapon up for his inspection. 

Michael felt his nostrils flair. She rarely ever let him stand this close to her, not even during physical training, not since their first meeting in Budapest. She had taught him how to fight hand-to-hand by beating the hell out of him. But the discomfort he was feeling now wasn't any better.

Selene didn't seem to notice his reaction. She was focused on the small machine gun. "Take a look at the trigger," she said softly. "By increasing pressure, you go from semi-auto to full-auto fire - at least if the safety-catch here is pushed half way across. If moved all the way, it allows full automatic fire only," she said as she pushed a small level behind the weapon's trigger. "Keep it in the halfway position until you learn to time the bursts properly. Have a look." She handed him the now harmless sub-machine gun. She quickly sat back down and started doing something to one of the larger machine guns on the table, effectively putting distance between them. Michael let out his breath.

Michael held the weapon, surprised at its light weight. It didn't feel like metal, more like some sort of plastic. Selene continued, "Of all the SMGs I have ever fired, that one best combines the features one should expect from that sort of weapon. Your grip will be instinctive. You'll have superior control and a high hit ratio. Relatively speaking, of course."

_Of course._ Michael had no idea what she was talking about. He couldn't tell if she wanted him to shoot the gun or make love to it. Selene was animated as she spoke, completely in her element. She talked about weapons like normal people talked about the weather. It reminded Michael in sharp detail just what kind of person Selene was – a soldier, a warrior, the antithesis of everything he worked so hard to become. The realization was discouraging. Perhaps Selene had been right to distance herself emotionally from the start. She probably realized instantly what he was only now struggling to understand, that she came from a very different world than the one he believed in. 

The fact that she was a vampire and he a hybrid, an abomination by every vampire's reckoning, was depressing enough.  

Trying to conceal his reluctance, Michael gripped the weapon and held it in front of him as though aiming to fire. "See, you're already holding it in the proper position," Selene spoke with encouragement. 

Michael nodded with a half smile and put the gun down on the table, quickly placing his hands in his pockets. His brain was desperately trying to come up with something, anything, to say. His olfactory senses were overwhelmed with the odor of gun oil, ozone, and the unique smell of Selene. Everywhere he looked was metal and stone. It was cold. It was her, utterly. He just stood there, blatantly uncomfortable, looking at anything but his now silent, tinkering companion.

"You don't like this do you?" she finally said quietly in her soft, English accent. He glanced up at her questioningly. She was focused on the weapon. Michael's medical mind registered her actions as some sort of bizarre surgical operation. Her beautiful face was skewed into a frown of concentration. Her long, slender fingers held tools he couldn't identify.

_She hates it when you play dumb, Michael,_ he thought. His mind scrambled in desperation. "I don't…What do you mean?" he said quietly in return, resigned to his own stupidity. He swallowed with difficulty. _Did she have to look so fucking beautiful all the time?_ His chest constricted. Blinking rapidly, he fought to focus on their discussion.

She glanced at him. If she was irritated, he couldn't tell. She continued her gun surgery, letting him stew for a moment longer. "I'm not a simpleton, Michael. You hate that I'm a Death Dealer…or was," she quickly amended with an annoyed expression. "You hate that I'm a killer."

Out of an instinct to assuage her fears, he was about to deny what she said, but suddenly stopped himself. No point in denying what was an obvious truth. He was a doctor after all. Even a simpleton could draw the conclusion that they were completely unalike. And yes that did bother him profoundly. Even after all that he had witnessed from her, he could not make himself believe that she was a cold-blooded killer.

Selene suddenly intruded into his troubled thoughts. "Michael, I'm not going to ask that you let go of the man you once were. That will happen, whether you want it to or not. You must accept that." She then frowned, almost sorrowfully. She lay down the tools and stood up slowly, using their near equal height as an emphasis. "I only hope that, eventually, you learn to accept who I am." She caught his eye and held it, a profound caution in her voice. "Because I'm long past redemption."  

Michael wondered once again how she managed to read his thoughts. _He_ was the one who absorbed _her_ memories, not the other way around. But her memories had faded quickly from his consciousness, much more quickly than Lucian's. The loss of them had left him only confused, doubting the memory of emotions that she now kept firmly hidden from him. 

But, God, she made him ache for her regardless.

"I don't believe that." The words slipped from him before he could stop them. He bravely kept his eyes locked with hers. He could still look down at her, just barely. 

 Her amber eyes still solemn and forlorn, she gave him the smallest of wistful smiles. "I know."

They were standing not a foot apart. Michael stared into her eyes, transfixed. He could not move, could not breathe. She had kept her distance over the long months, sensing his torment. But this…this nearness. It was excruciating. It took every bit of willpower he contained to remain stock still. _She does not want this, Michael._

Then Selene did the unthinkable. She glanced at his mouth. It was the briefest glimpse, but it was enough. Seeing the immediate change in his countenance, Selene realized her mistake. She turned her head to the table with uneasy eyes, breaking contact.

Michael's skin tingled with the shock that shot through him from that one glance. He continued to stare at her as she hastily sat back down to resume her work on the weapon, saying not another word. Somehow, without him moving, she had sensed his strong reaction. It was primal. He could have taken her right there on the table. He was strong enough to do it. He wanted to do it. 

Whether she wanted it or not.

Michael's knuckles turned white as he balled his hands into tight fists. He bared his burgeoning fangs as he gritted them together. He had to leave. Now.

"I've got to go," he quickly whispered, and almost ran from the basement, escaping into the light, for once relieved she couldn't follow.

He burst from the secret entrance under the stairs and stalked blindly into the salon. Stopping before the fireplace, he gripped the marble mantle until he heard the stone crack. He took several deep breaths as he stared into the soot-filled fireplace, fighting desperately for control. Suddenly, he looked up into the mirror above the mantle. What he saw made him catch his breath in shock.

His eyes were solid black. 

~.~.~.~


	2. Ready or Not

Underworld - The Turning

Written by  
Wendy Dale Smith  
st7ci@hotmail.com  
  
  
  


~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

  
  
Chapter 2  
  
  


_And soon…I will become the hunted._

Selene had managed to keep that truth at bay throughout the long summer months, when the daylight dominated. But with winter coming, time was running out. The night would dominate once again and they would begin their hunt for her, if they hadn't already. Eventually they would find their hiding place, her haven in the mountains, and introduce her to one last sunrise. She refused to contemplate what they would do to Michael.

It was quite simple really. They had to leave the fading safety of this valley. She needed to find allies. _But who?_ she agonized. _Who would find kinship with an Elder-killing Death Dealer, one shackled with a hybrid no less?_ She choked back a laugh at the hopeless absurdity of her situation. 

Selene sat in the driver's seat of the SUV. She had taken a quick trip to Munich for supplies. Mostly she just needed to get away. To think. Thinking was becoming more and more difficult around the house.

Selene shook her dark head. If someone had told her a year ago where she would be, and more importantly who she would be with, she would have laughed in their face or shot them for the insult. _Probably both_, she thought with derision of the woman she had been just a few, short months ago. How could things stay so predictable for so many years, so many decades, and then change utterly in an instant? 

_Goddamn it all Selene, can't you do anything in half measures?_ she cursed silently to herself. No, she couldn't. And that was just one of the things she had learned about herself in the months she had shared her home with Michael. She was going to pay a dear price for letting willfulness get in the way of whatever wisdom she had acquired over the years.

She looked up at his window. The light was on in the lab. She knew he'd gotten no sleep after what happened between them in the armory. For the first time, she had felt real fear in his presence. She knew that, if he had taken her, there would have been precious little she could have done to stop him. Selene was quite certain a lesser man would have given in to what she saw in his eyes. His need was growing by the day. And though she tried desperately to deny the fact, Selene now knew she simply did not have the will anymore to prevent it. She had spent the last twelve hours pondering that sobering realization, the realization that part of her wished he _had_ given in. She put her head back against the seat and blew her breath out in a whoosh. She wanted him.

Selene gripped the bent steering wheel tightly and closed her eyes, refusing to entertain those feelings. She thought she had gotten her desire for him under control months ago. But now, it seemed it was coming back with a vengeance and right at the worst moment. Too much was at stake to become distracted now. Their _lives_ were at stake.

She had felt responsible for his indoctrination into the secret world of immortals. Having never turned a human, much less a lycan, she had done what she thought was best. Selene drew upon her memories of Viktor's tutelage, acknowledging that if nothing else, the Elder had at least been a kind and patient teacher. 

But Michael was a completely new experience. He was unique in the most fundamental way, a new species, and so astonishingly powerful in almost every trait he possessed. It captivated her. The sexual thrill she felt when he first defeated her in hand-to-hand combat was a vivid memory that haunted her day and night. Yet he had no idea how powerful he was. Selene made sure to keep that knowledge from him, preferring not to overwhelm him even more than he already was with his abilities. 

_She_ certainly had been overwhelmed. Not a day went by that Selene didn't have some new experience present itself. Never would she have thought such novelty could be so stressful. Staying so long away from Ordoghaz alone was a difficult enough adjustment. Despite her newfound hatred of that coven, it had been her single point of reference for decades, her home, and the only thing she understood. Though she loved her place in the Montafon Valley, it had never been intended as a permanent home. A more salacious vampire would have put it to much greater use. She knew many of the older vampires held estates of their own, but she never saw herself using her Vergalda house as anything more than a refuge from Kraven, a place where she could be alone. Sharing it with Michael had been the greatest adjustment of all.

It was Michael himself that usually provided her daily dose of unique events. That she couldn't monitor him during the day at first drove her mad. She had no control. She barely slept the first month, fearing he would bring the house down about her. He didn't know his own strength, then. Though her house was not full of the typical delicate things most women seemed determined to own, she did manage to acquire some very special items over the last seventy years – mostly rare art. To say he was a bull in a China shop would have been none too close to the literal truth. While he slept, she would quietly bring certain priceless items down to her bedchamber, things that if she had found broken, she knew she would have shot him for in a rage. 

His energy was nearly boundless. From the very beginning she endeavored to keep him busy. She'd initially found a way to channel it through training, but all too quickly he began to defeat her. Now she doubted she could ever overcome him in a straight fight. Rendering that option moot, she readily agreed when he'd requested to build a small laboratory. She finally had something to keep that overactive mind of his channeled. A fringe benefit was that he stopped breaking her things. At least, she thought suspiciously, as far as she was aware. 

Their attraction was another matter all together. As with everything regarding Michael, her newfound sexuality was often overpowering. Frequently the smell of him alone would send her thoughts careening off into a direction that would inevitably leave her in a foul mood the rest of the night. She started avoiding him of late, which she disliked. Michael was an intelligent and perceptive person and she enjoyed their conversations immensely. She missed them. But it had gotten to the point that they couldn't be in the same room together. She woke up every afternoon fighting the urge to call him down for some reason or another. Sometimes she would lose that battle. The lesson on weaponry had been a perfect example. 

She swiped the hair out of her face in frustration. It was inexplicable. _Why now? Why him?_ She'd always been able to maintain control in that regard. In fact, it was an aspect of her vampirism she rarely ever considered. She saw it as nothing more than a needless excess, one that was currently holding way too much sway over her body.

She knew the strong bond between them was in part a natural result of her bite. In fact, she could recall several tight-knit couples from the coven that were the result of careful turning. The process of conversion was so intimate, no one thought it unusual. Amelia had encouraged such unions in her coven, preferring to grow her group through the birth of much rarer pure born vampires. _Now where the hell did _that_ thought come from?_ Selene suddenly thought, horrified.

"Good Lord, he's got me thinking about babies now," she said to herself in abject self-disgust. She quickly got out of the truck and slammed the door closed. Halfway to the porch, she realized she forgot the supplies. With a curse, she stalked back to the vehicle and flung open the back door. Hands now full, she slammed the door closed with her foot, making a nice sized dent. _Something to match the steering wheel,_ she thought with a feral hiss.

She entered the house, already planning their departure.

~.~.~.~

Michael stared at the petri dish with the deepest apprehension, willing it to give him the results he so desperately needed. This culture was the last one. His last hope. 

With a nervous breath, he pivoted the stool on which he sat and stared out the opened double doors, to the valley below. He heard Selene approaching in the truck from as much as a kilometer away. She was avoiding him. After what he did, he couldn't blame her. The waning full moon shone brightly, casting shadows on the landscape he could so easily see with hybrid-sharpened eyes. His head was pounding with the effort it took to stay in control. He was thankful this was the last night of the full moon's cycle.

His eyes darted again to the culture dish. He was stalling, working up the courage to view results from months of intense biological research. He was so tempted to throw it away and just let time show him the truth, but his medical mind refused to let him wait till inevitability revealed his fate. He had to know, for her sake if nothing else.

With a sigh, he got up and moved to the large stainless steel refrigerator. Opening the door, he crouched down and pulled out two small plastic microtubes, one from a box marked "Selene" and one from a box marked "Michael." The small vials were filled with a blackish-red liquid. He closed the door firmly and sat back down at the lab table. 

Carefully adjusting the work lamp overhead, he positioned the two small vials, a handheld sample dispenser, a glass slide, and the culture dish. With the various items he carefully prepared the sample for microscopic study. Glass slide in hand, he then rolled to an adjacent table that held a variety of scientific equipment for which he held no little awe in owning. The chromatograph alone was worth a fortune. The equipment was far better than what they had available at the hospital in Budapest. Selene insisted he spare no expense in building his lab, even while expressly stating she held absolutely no interest in what he did with it. He rolled his chair in front of the large microscope that dominated the table. 

With a deep breath, he very carefully placed the sample slide under the microscope and hit the preset switch. Michael vigorously rubbed his eyes and, while holding his breath, looked slowly into the stereoscopic aperture. After a few minor adjustments, the long awaited results came into clear view. 

Almost immediately, what he saw made him jerk his head away in quiet dread. Closing his eyes briefly, he then looked at the sample again. There was no denying what he saw.

No new growth. No regrowth. The cells were atrophied.

Michael sat back slowly. He stared blankly at the microscope for an entire minute, his mind racing, refusing to accept the facts his eyes revealed quite clearly. Swallowing, he cast about blindly, trying desperately to fight the panic constricting his chest like a vise. He rolled back to the other table, his mind going over procedures he knew he followed faithfully. 

There was no mistake.

Staring at the delicate equipment, his face distorted cruelly in excruciating, uncontrollable pain. _No!_ his mind screamed as he fiercely shattered the table's contents against the far wall. He bent over, feeling sick. He squeezed darkening eyes tightly shut. He would not turn. He refused.

Taking deep soothing breaths, he thought of Selene. "Oh God, Selene," he whispered. How could he tell her? _Viktor had been right all along. _

It was then that he heard her, smelled her, approaching. She was coming up the stairs. Schooling his face quickly, he decided then and there she would never know. He would spare her this. Somehow. 

~.~.~.~

Selene walked reluctantly to the stairs, large supply bag in tow. She resigned herself to the awkwardness of seeing him after their last meeting. She had to face him sooner or later. 

Suddenly she heard a loud bellow, followed by the sound of shattering glass. Alarmed, she paused in mid-step. Hearing nothing but silence, she continued up to Michael's area with much more caution. She knew he could sense her approach long before her hand touched the laboratory door. There was no sneaking up on Michael. Selene opened the door and coolly entered the lab. She unceremoniously dropped her satchel on one of the large rectangular tables. 

Michael sat at his favorite stool next to his prized microscope, looking particularly dejected. His elbow on the table, he was rubbing his forehead as though in pain. He spared her the smallest glance. Selene frowned with worry. Something was definitely wrong. He wouldn't even turn to face her.

Looking around the usually very neat and sterile room, she quickly noted the shattered remains of one of his lab flasks along the floor and wall. She shot him a warning look, "I thought this was supposed to be dull work." She walked to the double doors and firmly shut out the moon.

Head still cradled in one hand, his eyes glanced at the floor in her general direction. "I won't transform," he assured her quietly and with no little bitterness.

She wrinkled her nose at the concoction splattered on the floor. It smelled disgusting. _What was he doing in here?_ "I should hope not. You've slaughtered enough of our neighbor's sheep," she replied matter-of-factly. 

He grimaced at the cutting remark, but ignored her baiting. He wasn't going to indulge her foul mood, apparently. _Pity._He looked instead at the large black satchel she dropped on the table. Still sounding pathetic, he said, "Is that the last of it?"

Frowning, she looked at the bag and nodded. She had bribed one of the Ziodex distributors in Munich for a steady supply of plasma. But over the last few months, he had become increasingly nervous. It was just a matter of time before he did something stupid. Not wanting to have to kill him, she had decided this would be her last trip. 

As if reading her mind, Michael hesitantly spoke his fears. "The Ziodex worker…Did you kill him?"

With an angry glare at him, she moved to yank open the large refrigerator next to the table. Unable to fathom why, the remark hurt. "I thought about it." She scowled at him. "I figured the ten thousand dollars I bribed him with would work just as well." She zipped open the bag and started moving plastic sacks of blood to his refrigerator. 

He shook his head. "Take them. You know I don't need blood as much as you do." He sounded as exhausted as he looked. Something was troubling him, something much deeper than the incident in the armory or the full moon looming through the balcony.  

"It will last. We're leaving here." No sense in trying to spare him, she thought with a mental shrug. 

That got his attention. He turned to look at her fully, the surprise evident in his face. "When did you decide this?"

"On the drive back." She watched his mind race as she placed the last of his share in the fridge. "You didn't think we'd stay here forever?" she said incredulously.

The way he paused gave her his answer. Finally, he sighed. "I hadn't thought about it."

She looked down at him knowingly. "Well you had better start. We're leaving tomorrow night." 

He grimaced in confusion. "Why the urgency?"

She sighed, wishing just once he would not question every decision she made for them. "Because I have no idea what's waiting for us out there, and I'm not going to sit around and brood over it a moment longer." She didn't care that he didn't like her answer. It was the only one he was going to get. 

She grabbed the bag and proceeded to the door. She paused as she opened it. 

"And Michael?" He brought his head up and looked at her tiredly through his blond locks. "Go to sleep. You look like hell." With that she walked out the door. 

~.~.~.~


	3. The Lycan's Ground

Underworld - The Turning

Written by  
Wendy Dale Smith  
st7ci@hotmail.com

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Chapter 3

Selene wasn't particularly fond of Paris. The city had a tradition of being a dangerous place for vampires. The ever-present throng of tourists and foreigners made the ancient city streets very unpredictable, made it difficult to tell friend from foe. Many a Death Dealer had been forced to give up their lycan hunt for that very reason. The animals would go to ground and never be found again. It was as if the city provided those filthy beasts with one very large, open air safe-house. Selene twitched her nose at the odor that radiated from a corner of the subway car. Unfortunately for her, the air in the Paris Metro was rarely open enough. 

She closed her eyes, chastising herself yet again for her uncharitable thoughts. _The lycans aren't my enemy._

Selene and Michael stood apart from the small crowd of passengers as the car sped rapidly through the Paris subway tunnel. Arriving at the Gare de Lyon train station, in the heart of Paris, they then caught the short subway ride to the Place de la Bastille. The Bastille was where they would begin their search. 

Despite their desperate situation, Selene had to admit finding allies in the heart of lycan country was a bit reckless even for her. She shook her head, once again amazed at her own audacity. _The lycans aren't my enemy_, she repeated mentally to herself, but found very little comfort in the mantra. They never really had been in the first place. But any lycan who knew her for the Death Dealer she had been was going to find her change of heart very difficult to believe. If she was ever going to convince them otherwise, she was going to have to get over her revulsion at the idea of being near them. Or Michael and she were as good as dead. 

Going over it again in her mind, Selene tried to find some comfort in the logic of this outwardly foolish action.

Selene's suspicions of a lycan uprising had begun long ago, long before Lucian confirmed it. For quite a few years, Selene and Kahn had worked on a theory that somebody, someone well organized financially, had been bankrolling the lycans in their area of Hungary. More and more frequently, they discovered weapons and equipment on the lycans they had killed that could not have been acquired without substantial foresight and planning, without considerable funds. Even the subsequent discovery of Lucian, to Selene's reckoning, could not explain where the money came from. Where did _he _get it? Whoever was funneling the money to Lucian's operation had a talent for covering their tracks.

Kahn had suspected that it was coming from outside the city. Being the lycan haven it was, Paris seemed the logical choice to begin their investigation. Kahn had sent three of his most experienced warriors into the center of the enemy's home ground. After three months of careful observation and exploration, the vampire spies had narrowed their search to an area near the Bastille, between the Rue de Lyon, Rue de Charenton, and Diderot Boulevard. The triangle of streets formed roughly a kilometer square area that encompassed private apartments, entertainment venues, and financial offices right in the heart of old Paris. Many of the structures were at least one to two hundred years old. Some buildings were much older. It seemed a promising place for a lycan-lover to set up shop. The Death Dealer agents had begun to zero in on their target. They had been close to their prey. 

But on the brink of discovering this elusive patron, the vampire spies had suddenly disappeared. When Kahn lost communication with his agents, he sent in another larger team that included Selene. The squad of warriors went heavily armed into the area where their comrades had last made contact. They had expected heavy resistance. 

They found nothing. No vampires. No hint of lycans. Nothing. 

Over ten years had past since that debacle. Before the final battle with Lucian's horde, it had been the only time the Death Dealers had failed so utterly in a mission. Kahn, under Kraven's strict orders, never led his Dealers back into Paris. But they all knew they had been close to something, something big. On discovering Kraven's treacherous alliance with Lucian, Selene had initially thought it was he who was funneling the money, but subsequent analysis forced her to throw out that idea. Kraven was a coward. The risks of filtering such vast sums would have been far too great for that spineless excuse of a vampire. With an urgency not felt then, Selene knew she needed to find this mysterious lycan collaborator. It was the kind of individual that might offer the protection Michael and she required. 

At the thought of him, Selene glanced at Michael standing quietly next to her. He was staring off into space, deep in his own thoughts. He seemed to be taking in the city remarkably well, considering how hypersensitive his hybrid senses had become. His first time back amongst people since his turning, she thought all the sights and smells would overwhelm him. After being isolated in her rural house for months on end, she had been convinced Michael would not be able to handle the complexity of Paris, or the outside world in general. So far, he was proving her wrong. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement from the humans. She cast her eye on two young females as they moved to sit just a foot from where she and Michael stood. Apparently, they had moved to get away from three adolescent boys that had been harassing them. Dismissing the humans, Selene sighed deeply and gripped the support pole as the car jumped. That's when the smell hit her. 

Catching her breath, Selene immediately fought the instincts that always hovered just under the surface. Getting it swiftly under control, her eyes shot to the two adolescent girls, and then up to Michael. He was not staring into space, as she had thought. He had been staring at the girls from across the car. Selene looked away as her brain raced to deal with the very dangerous problem that almost literally dropped in her lap. She glanced at Michael again.

His face held the most depraved expression she had ever seen. He stared down at young woman sitting next to where he stood. Selene could actually see his nose open and close as he smelled the girl. The youth looked up then and noticed the stranger's gaze riveted on her. The girl's eyes widened and she shot her head back down. Laughing nervously, she began whispering furiously to her friend.

Using her thumb like a dagger, Selene made a fist and surreptitiously drove her thumbnail into his ribcage. She knew she punctured his skin, but he barely registered it. Without losing his smile, he turned languidly to look at her. His eyes were blackened. Panic rose up inside Selene. _If one of the humans notices…_

Just then, the train began to slow. The large orange and white arches of the Metro Bastille came into view as they settled to a stop. The two girls quickly got up and went back to the three boys, in their ignorance thinking the group of young males could provide shelter from one such as Michael. A few seconds later, the doors opened with a hiss. The crowd of young people, now all aware of the mad foreigner with the strange eyes, rushed out of the car. 

Without a backward glance, Michael went to follow them, his eye still fully engrossed on the one girl. "Shit!" Selene cursed aloud to herself.With an ominous scowl, she threw her heavy bag over her shoulder and moved rapidly to stop him, before he did irrevocable damage. _Why didn't I see this coming?_ Selene mentally kicked herself, realizing it was inevitable that this would have happened. It was just so common that she completely overlooked it.  

Seeing the small maintenance alcove set under the stairwell, Selene saw her opportunity and ran the last few feet up to Michael. She grabbed him bodily and yanked him into a dark alcove under the main subway entrance. Seizing him by the throat, she slammed him up against the cement wall. That knocked him out of his stupor. 

"Control yourself. Now." She was furious, with herself more than anything. 

He put his hands up and nodded. She let him go. He just stood there staring at her, dazed. He then looked out into the main tunnel, nostrils flaring, eyes still solid black. He licked his lips.

Seeing this, Selene shook her head. "You're not ready for this. I'm taking you back."

As she walked by him, he grabbed her arm none too gently. "No," he growled. From decades of defensive reflex, she drew her weapon. But as fast as she was, she couldn't come close to Michael's speed. Before she even realized what she intended, he took hold of her wrist in an iron fist. 

Her 9mm pointing harmlessly in the air, he began to squeeze as he locked eyes with her. He spoke in the deepest baritone. "Let go," he said quietly. She gasped sharply as his grip on her wrist suddenly increased tenfold. Reflexively, her palm opened. With a metallic clink, the pistol fell harmlessly to the concrete.

Suddenly, he opened his palms. She yanked away and grabbed her wrist, shocked at what he'd just done to her. When he saw her reaction, his brow furrowed in bewilderment. Selene knew she had never looked at him like that before. In fear. She watched fascinated as his eyes turned back to their normal blue-green.

He shook his head like a canine, trying to clear it. "What just happened to me?" At his plea-ridden question, her fierce scowl lessened considerably. She relaxed her defensive stance.

"Bloodlust," she said with a huge sigh. "The smell of her blood brought it on. That's definitely my influence in you." Still lost in his confusion, he watched her flex her fingers to get the blood flowing again. Watching him carefully in return, Selene slowly bent and picked up her weapon. She checked it quickly, and then glanced at the main tunnel as she put it away. No one had seen their violent exchange.

Michael was staring out at the main tunnel as well, still trying to defeat his lingering incomprehension. "But she wasn't bleeding."

Staring incredulously at his remark, Selene replied "Oh yes she was." She turned and walked back toward the crowd, shaking her head in quiet amazement at how thick he was at two o'clock in the morning. He was rarely _this_ imperceptive. 

_I'd better warn him about vampire reproductive cycles_, Selene thought with bemusement. At the entrance of the alcove, she turned and looked back at him. _Or I'm a dead woman._ She watched as enlightenment hit him, as his expression turned decidedly sheepish. She would laugh at him later. Right now she was too disturbed that Michael had so easily over-powered her. "Are you coming?" 

When Selene saw that he was following, she once again entered the flow of human traffic. She glanced back at him. She knew the question was imminent. 

"So did you smell her...?"

"Drop it."

"Fine."

From the Bastille, they walked toward Charenton Street. They would work their way south down Charenton, toward Diderot Boulevard. It was the most obvious place to start. The street was lined with five to seven story hotels, offices, and apartment buildings, but few entertainment spots. It was relatively quiet.

Selene kept one eye on her surroundings and one on Michael. He looked at everything in wondrous fascination. There weren't many people to be seen at this time of night. But the sights, sounds, and smells built up over days where most likely overwhelming to his hybrid senses. After what just happened in the subway, she was not going to take anything for granted. Hearing his steps suddenly come to a halt, Selene stopped and looked behind her. 

He was gazing up at the Colonne de Juillet, at the huge columned monument in the center of the square. His face had gone somber, reflective. He was obviously thinking of some important memory from his human past. "I've never been to Paris," he said quietly, gazing up at the golden statue just barely visible in the darkness above. She hadn't either. _Not during the day anyway_, she thought, nor in anyway he was thinking - in leisure, with pleasure. She drew her brows together, not liking the feeling that came with that thought. She refused to call it regret.

"Come on." She turned and walked more quickly toward the point of this trip, to the creatures she sensed were close by. 

  
  
~.~.~.~

A few minutes later, they crossed a major intersection. Even at that time of night there was a large crowd of people gathered there. They were gathered about what looked like a small theater, a disco, and some elaborate Chinese restaurant. Michael was amazed yet again at the variety of smells that emanated from the humans. It excited him in ways he found both enthralling and revolting. He wondered how he would ever get used to it.

He tugged at the dark brown leather trench coat Selene insisted he wear, pulling his backpack more securely over his shoulder. Under his coat, his small machine gun was poking him in his ribs where she had stabbed him with her thumbnail, preventing the small wound from healing completely. He sighed in discomfort. Paris wasn't as cold as it was at home. He was hot in the thick leather. 

He felt ridiculous wearing all this crap. His instincts were telling him he was much safer unhindered. He looked up at Selene walking a few paces ahead. She was in full uniform, ready for battle. She seemed not to notice the glances she drew as they passed the throng of humans. Either she didn't know how striking she looked, or didn't care. He suspected the latter. Michael, on the other hand, had to suppress the colossal urge to rip the throat out of every male that turned to look at her as she passed. He walked by one particularly good-looking dark-headed male who failed to stop staring after her. Without thought, Michael growled low in his throat with a reverberating bass rumble. The taller man immediately jerked and stepped out of the way. Pensively, Michael was glad her coat covered her backside, or there would have been a blood bath in Paris that night. 

Disturbed at his surge of animal-like possessiveness, Michael pushed past the crowd to catch up with her. He wasn't used to having anyone else around Selene. It hit him now why she never took him with her on her many trips to Munich. With how he'd acted back in the subway, coupled with what he was feeling now, he was having enough trouble just keeping his aggression in check. He grimaced. She had trained him enough to know that his actions right now were a liability to her instead of an asset.

With a deep breath, he curbed his tormented emotions and focused his senses on the surrounding environment. Selene had moved several meters in front of him. The thoroughfare was much darker beyond the crowed intersection. Few cars passed them. Like a maze, small side roads and alleyways entered the main street at odd angles. There was a consistent row of apartment-like buildings all around him. He looked up at their old-fashioned facades, seeing few lights on in the windowed balconies above. 

He sniffed the air. It was clearer away from the crowd, but just as foreign. His nose would be next to useless here, where everything was unfamiliar, curious, and even a little frightening. He focused on Selene. While she didn't sweat like a human, she still had full use of glands the primordial past dictated she utilize despite her vampirism. Or maybe because of it, he thought, for vampires had the heightened senses to make better use of such telltale emotional markers. He knew he did. Compared to the stress he sensed from most of the strangers he'd come in contact with, she smelled calm to him, in control. Michael found her scent comforting in this chaos. 

To his left, a small garden-like park across the street came into view, dimly lit now at this late hour. Even his hybrid sensitive eyes had trouble picking out details in the blackened shadows. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Looking back around the small square, he inspected the tall buildings and blind alleys all around him. He realized there were hundreds of opportunities for concealment. It was the perfect death trap. 

Alarmed, he looked back at Selene. She had stopped and was staring down a narrow street up to his right. As he picked up his pace, he watched her move forward, disappearing around the darkened corner.

  
  
~.~.~.~

Selene knew they were there, up in the darkness. She could sense their eyes on her as far back as the crowded intersection, watching her approach. It was disconcerting to be on the other side of this game, to be the hunted. Their furtive movements told her they were waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike, unnoticed by human eyes. 

She glanced up at the high arch forming a bridge over the entrance to the narrow side street. Several meters thick, it blocked her view of the rooftops lining the lane beyond. Standing at the entrance of the dark passage, Selene realized there was no better place than this. She took a deep breath, working up the courage to step into the trap, to make herself a target. The trick was making sure they missed.

She heard Michael round the corner as she walked slowly through the archway. With a glance and a motion, she ordered him to stay back. She ignored his agitation and turned back around, focusing all her senses on the shadows above. _Come on. Take your shot. Reveal yourself!_ Her eyes narrowed in concentration. She listened. She tensed. 

She heard the muffled curse behind her as she was suddenly propelled forward. With back breaking force, she hit the brick wall of the building. The automatic sniper rifle made no sound, but the high caliber ammunition it fired rebounded loudly off the building and cobblestones around them. She grimaced as a stabbing pain shot up from her thigh. She knew instantly she had been shot by one of the rebounding bullets.

Michael had her flattened against the wall as she reflexively ducked her head from the flying debris. "What the hell are you doing!?" she raged.  

"Are you crazy!?! You were in the middle of the fucking street!" Michael ducked as another barrage of bullets smacked the bricks around them, shattering debris in their faces. With a curse, Michael pushed Selene into the shallow doorway of the building, effectively blocking any shrapnel. "Were you _trying_ to get shot!?" 

"I _did _get shot! I was trying to _draw_ their fire, not get hit by it! I told you stay back!" She winced. The pain in her upper thigh was distracting. A part of her realized the shooters could hear every word they were yelling at the top of their lungs. She was too enraged to care.

"You were shot?" With a horrified look, Michael grabbed her by the shoulders and immediately started looking for the gunshot wound. Then and there Selene decided bringing Michael along was more trouble than it was worth. _Can the man not care for one bloody moment? I have work to do!_

With a frustrated growl, Selene forcefully shoved him out of the way so she could get a better look at their attackers high above. At their angle, almost directly on top of them, they couldn't get a good shot at her. She reached around and pulled out her Berretta, quickly clicking on a silencer. She didn't want to bring on human attention any more than their attackers did. With the silencer attached, however, her 9mm didn't have any range, was practically a useless weapon. She hoped it would deter the creatures enough not to put another bullet in her. "We've got to get out of here before they circle round. Follow me."

Selene spied the garden niche across the main street. She remembered seeing a large cement platform when she passed it earlier. She bolted out of the doorway toward it, firing her pistol in the general direction of the snipers. She could hear the metal clink of her bullets hitting the building high above. Their attackers also got in a few missed shots before her and Michael ducked back under the archway. She could feel the wound on her leg blistering her inside. That had been one lucky shot. She was hemorrhaging badly, too fast even for her vampire body to adjust. Selene knew she had only moments to get them to safety. 

She ran the short distance to the large concrete dais tucked into the back of the small urban park. Just as she suspected, the platform was actually an entrance. She looked down into the blackened pit. The access however, was blocked with a massive iron gate that looked like it had rusted firmly shut decades ago. With her free hand she yanked the metal door. _Shit!_ Even with her considerable strength, it didn't budge. She gripped the bars in frustration, reading the rusted sign attached to it. "Attention. Catacombes Instables. N'entrez pas."

Suddenly, strong hands gripped the heavy gate in front of her. "Get back," Michael said absently. Before she got completely out of the way, he began to pull with all his strength. Immediately, the sound of groaning metal began to reverberate through the little park. Selene darted her head around warily, knowing their attackers were repositioning. She was about to tell him to hurry when she heard the metal door finally give way with a loud crack. Throwing the mangled door aside, he looked down into the hole, inspecting it. 

He looked at her and nodded. "Jump."

  
  
~.~.~.~

Not ten meters within the obscurity of the rough-hewn passage, Selene and Michael found themselves enclosed by death. A city under the city, the Catacombs of Paris were a network of tunnels and caves that ran for more than 300 kilometers. Quarried by the Ancient Romans, subsequent generations of Parisians saw the man-made caverns as a convenient solution to a mortal dilemma. Where to place all the dead? Thirty generations found final rest within the immense underground spaces. 

No one would follow them down into the catacombs, not even the shadowy creatures that attacked them. Navigating the pitch black maze was a risk no being would willingly take. This was true for immortals above all. The dark spaces melded together in macabre repetition, filling the senses with archaic death, seeming to distort space and time itself. As no other place, the catacombs humbled lycan and vampire alike with the knowledge that, while death did not bind them, it still taunted with ever vigilant possibility.

Selene welcomed the blackness, nocturnal eyes squinting in the dark. Moving rapidly, her determined steps lead them ever deeper and downward, twisting and turning with no consistency or pattern. 

Michael almost immediately lost his sense of direction. Knowing he would be totally lost in this place on his own, he followed her blindly, trustful of her judgment, of wisdom earned in countless decades of hard-won experience.

After what seemed several minutes but could have only been mere seconds, Michael listened carefully and sniffed the air. He grimaced. His sense of smell was useless in the overwhelming stench of the cave. "They're not following us." He stated the obvious, for he could not bear hearing the steady crunch of gravel beneath their feet or the deafening drip of water. The sounds were grating in the utter quiet of the ancient tomb.

"Really," she mocked quietly back, and resumed her silence. He could almost feel her irritation with him. _No idle talk then, _Michael grumbled mentally to himself. There never was idleness with Selene. He shook his head at her back, no longer bothered by her habitual lack of elaboration. He wasn't at all surprised that she hadn't told him what she planned to do. Even if he had known she planned to draw their fire, he probably would have done the same thing and gotten her shot, regardless.  

Selene had no patience with explaining things to him that, from her perspective, seemed blatantly obvious. Despite her beautiful youthful appearance, Michael had become acutely sensitive to the vast difference in their ages. As she once deigned to explain to him, "Vampires who have far exceeded the normal mortal lifespan become erudite in the extreme. It is our nature. That is why all mortals seem as children to us, very dangerous children." He had to look up erudite, its meaning hitting home with him better than her conceited explanation. He had realized it was not her intention to condescend or belittle him. His powerful hybrid abilities notwithstanding, in many respects he was exactly what she often accused him of being. An infant. 

Selene knew their world as intimately as he did not. She commanded respect and obedience, and – until he earned the right to be otherwise - he was to give it without question. Whether he liked it or not, that was the natural way of things in the immortal realm. He grimaced.

As these thoughts flashed rapidly through his mind, Michael realized he had never been patient with his own ignorance. With a sigh, he turned his thoughts back to his surroundings. His senses were more heightened than hers. He could just make out the skeletons lying quietly in their nooks or piled high in ghoulish stacks along the walls. Every so often they would pass what he sensed were much larger spaces and passages crammed head high with bones. There were literally millions upon millions of disarticulated skeletal remains. He stepped closer to Selene, unconsciously reacting to the disturbing environment. 

It was then that he became aware of the blood. The overwhelming smells of the catacombs had masked it. But the smell of blood was strong and thick in the air surrounding her. Much too strong and thick to be the shallow wound he assumed the rifle shot had given her. On closer inspection, he noticed her ever-increasing limp. She was panting from exertion. He felt his stomach begin to tighten.

Selene never panted. In fact, she rarely drew deep breaths at all, even under violent circumstances. Cold-blooded creatures didn't need as much oxygen. There was only one reason for her rapid breathing. 

She was losing blood. Lots of blood.

Suddenly she stumbled, awkwardly catching her fall against the limestone cave wall. Michael immediately reached out to steady her. Usually, she would have jerked from his touch. Instead, she sank into his steadying hands, her breath now coming in gasps.

"I think…" She took a deep breath and began again. "I think we had better find an alcove to rest a bit." 

Michael almost panicked right then and there. Calming himself immediately, remembering his medical training, he replied steadily, "An alcove?" 

He could see her head nod up and down. Taking another deep breath, she stated, "There are small rooms all around this place, family burial chambers. They have benches for…" She paused for breath. "…for visitors."

Taking stock of the situation, Michael looked around and realized he couldn't see well enough to find one of the places she described. He held her chin up to look at him. "Selene, I need to see better. I'm going to use a flashlight. I think it's safe now. Okay?"

She nodded faintly. As soon as he let go of her, she swayed into the wall, letting it hold her up instead of Michael.

Michael quickly pulled out the small flashlight and was momentarily blinded as he switched in on. As his eyes adjusted, the severity of the situation became readily apparent. Selene's face was gaunt, her head drooping to one side. Looking down, he saw the blood flowing down her black leggings. It made a clear path down the narrow tunnel they had traveled, so heavy was the blood loss. He could see it was coming from a bullet hole on her upper thigh.

"Shit!" he loudly whispered. His doctor's instinct kicking in, he slid Selene to the ground and frantically began to search for one of the alcoves. Quickly calculating, he realized it had already been a couple minutes since she had been shot. _Not much time left,_ his mind panicked.

Two intersections down, he found one of the rooms. It was covered with elaborate Roman-era murals, though it could not have been that old. A stone sarcophagus for some medieval nobleman lay at the opposite end of the room. Two low stone benches lined either side of the small chamber. Unlike the catacomb hallways, there was just enough space in the alcove to maneuver.

He ran back to Selene, pocketed the flashlight, and gently picked her up. Walking as quickly as he could with his burden, he then set her back on her feet inside the little room. Swaying in front of him, she said not a word as he quickly threw her leather cloak to the floor. Her armored vest soon followed. As he began to unfasten the tight-fitting rubber-like undergarment, he noticed her breathing had slowed considerably, which only alarmed him further. 

"How do you get into this thing?" Michael grimaced under his breath. He tried peeling away the rubbery cloth, but quickly realized that tactic went only so far. Selene swayed slightly, grabbing his arm for support as he tugged determinedly at the intractable material. He glanced down at the floor, becoming alarmed at the amount of blood still flowing from her and pooling at their feet. 

She shook her head feebly, trying to force lucidity into her weakened condition. "Practice," Selene replied just as Michael yanked her right arm out of its sleeve, the momentum sending him back at step. He looked up at her with a flash of triumph only to quickly grab her again as she began to collapse. He then noticed the change in her appearance. Even for a vampire her face had shrunken to a sickly pallor, with dark gray recesses under eyes and cheekbones. Her lips were bloodless. She looked fifty years older in the span of a few minutes.

"Shit," he said again, looking around in desperation. He led her to the low stone bench. It was filthy. It would have to do. He had to get her feet up to save what little blood she had left. He gently placed her on the bench, letting her still clothed arm fall limply, her left hand hitting the graveled floor. _A human would be dead by now_, he thought with a scowl. 

This was new territory for him, treating immortals. From Selene's description of the Elder vampires, he knew they did not die from lack of blood, per se. But, for all intents, once a vampire was drained of blood they might as well have been dead. They became comatose, almost mummified. It took days, sometimes weeks, to mobilize them back to their normal condition. Unfortunately, they didn't have that kind of time.

"Fuck it." Completely losing patience with her body armor, he grabbed the front of it with both hands. With a growl, he clamped down on the material with sharp fangs that conveniently appeared where normal teeth had been only moments before. Fleetingly he wondered if he was finally learning to control his turning, but just as quickly he dismissed the notion. It was fear. Fear was threatening to overwhelm him. Fear for Selene. By force of will he kept his emotions in check, his hybrid form at bay.

Making a sizable hole with his teeth, the not-so-bullet-proof material ripped easily under Michael's exceptional strength. He began to peel away the skin-tight garment. As he neared the large oozing wound on her left upper thigh, he carefully pulled away the black material, revealing the huge hole he knew without doubt pierced directly through her main femoral artery. 

Blood flow had slowed considerably through the major vein. Her immortal heartbeat dropped to an imperceptible rate as she began the first stages of vampire hibernation. He could actually hear her heart slowing down in the oppressively silent catacomb. Michael knew intuitively he had only an hour at best before the regenerative state took over completely. Using his teeth again, he ripped off the left sleeve of her garment and wrapped it tightly around her upper thigh. 

Satisfied enough with his improvised tourniquet, he grabbed his backpack and pulled out the one item he insisted they bring along. Carefully, he opened the sizable medical kit. It contained adequate amounts of what any human would need in an emergency. Unfortunately, most of it was useless to vampires. He finally spotted what he was looking for – needle and thread. 

Carefully placing the kit aside, he took a deep calming breath and somehow managed to thread the curved suture needle. Placing the small flashlight in his mouth, and with needle and clamp in hand, he began to suture the sizable hole. Michael tried to ignore the horrible sanitary conditions, knowing she was in no danger from infection, but his medical training was insulted nonetheless. He was all doctor now, barely aware of his surroundings. If his next plan was going to work, he knew the artery had to be sealed completely. She couldn't afford to lose another drop.

  
  
~.~.~.~

Thirty minutes later Michael put the needle down. Gently untying the tourniquet and releasing the clamp, he watched closely, seeing that no more blood would escape. Carefully looking over the wound, he nodded slightly in satisfaction. He was a good trauma surgeon, a skill he realized was essential for anyone willing to follow Selene. Now all he had to do was wait for Selene's exceptional regenerative abilities to finish the healing process. He didn't think it would take more than a few hours. 

He had only one other task to perform to start her rapid recovery. 

He glanced up at Selene's quiet, ravaged face. She was unconscious, and slowly sinking deeper into oblivion. He could sense her slipping away from him. He let out the shaky breath he had been holding. He wasn't sure about this part, if it would work. It was unfamiliar territory, alien and frightening, but essential to her. There was no question he would try it. 

Gently he removed what was left of her clothing, barely conscious of her nudity, ever watchful of the delicate sutures. Laying her large leather coat on the floor next to the bench, Michael slowly moved her from the bloodstained stone slab onto the silk-lined fabric. Grabbing the jacket he had hastily thrown aside during his operation, he wrapped her pale torso as best he could. There wasn't much he could do about the blood. It was everywhere. Michael assured himself she wouldn't be bothered. _She's seen much worse._ Irrationally, he decided to put her boots back on. _In case her feet got cold._

Realizing the ridiculousness of his action, he stood up and let out a disgusted curse as he hesitated over her body. In a whoosh, he blew out his breath. "Don't be a fucking coward Michael," he said aloud to himself as he watched her seemingly lifeless form. 

As he stared at her, a terrible ache formed in his chest. He bent down and softly touched her frozen cheek with the back of his blood-stained fingers, gently removing a black lock of hair from her face. "If you don't come back to me, we'll go together," he whispered. He bent down and softly kissed her icy lips. Reaching behind her head, Michael raised her torso and laid her tenderly in his lap, her head cradled to his chest. He then lifted his right wrist to his mouth, and hesitated. 

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, he finally let out all the emotions he had hidden carefully from Selene for weeks on end, since his first transformation. The failed experiments, the running, the fighting, the hiding, the profound unanswered love he felt for the woman who lay lifeless in his arms, all escaped from his control in one overpowering rush. But most of all, he opened himself to the fear, the constant all-consuming fear of being alone, of losing Selene.

Michael opened obsidian eyes, and viciously sank fangs down into his warm, graying skin. The hot surge of iron flooded his mouth and senses, pleasure in its purest form to his hypersensitive hybrid state. Maintaining his tenuous faculties, he kept the opened vein flowing as he parted Selene's lips. Quickly, not wanting to waste a drop, he hovered the exposed vein over her opened mouth, letting her get a tentative taste of the precious life-giving fluid. 

Selene jerked upward, making Michael twitch in response and snap almost instantly out of his altered state. Her eyes shot open, glowing vivid, electric blue and unquestionably terror-filled as the hot blood coated her lips and entered her mouth. Michael moved his free arm to hold her in place as she mindlessly sought the blood she so desperately needed. Weakened to the state of infancy, she could barely move. Carefully, Michael lowered his wrist to her mouth, letting her pull the blood from his veins, letting her drink her fill.

The sensation was intriguing to Michael. He felt no pain, only an overpowering languor. In the space of a minute his eyes became heavy. He knew he was going to faint soon if he didn't remove his wrist. He watched Selene feeding off his life a moment more, her eyes closed as she drank deeply. He pulled her closer, finding her strangely endearing. She had never been so completely dependant on him, or – from what few of her memories he still retained hinted - anyone else in her immortal lifetime. Looking more closely, he noticed the dark shadows had left her face. She had regained her youthful appearance. It was time to let her go.

Almost regretfully he pulled his wrist away. He smiled slightly at her unconscious scowl. Listening carefully for her heartbeat, he found it strong and steady once again. It had worked. She was going to be her normal stubborn angry self. Michael couldn't have been happier.

He fell back against the stone bench in utter relief, and promptly fainted.

  
  
~.~.~.~


	4. A Good Knock

Underworld - The Turning

Written by  
Wendy Dale Smith  
st7ci@hotmail.com

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_To Reviewers:___

**_Josh Maxwell wrote:_**_ "I'm glad that you didn't just have them become an automatic couple like a lot of the other stories out there."_

_Only children and fools believe in love at first sight. I'm fairly confident that Selene is neither. She is self-disciplined and chaste, and wouldn't give in to the "simple pleasures" of lust no matter how unique the sensation. The motivation isn't there, at first. I hoped that readers would slowly begin to understand that Selene was being mentored by Michael as well, just in a very different and more subtle way than she was mentoring him. _

**_Morrgaine_****_ wrote:_**_ "I think the word you were looking for, that is a term for something used to stop bleeding, is touriquet, I think That is what you were trying to spell when you put tunicate." _

_When I read what you said, I didn't quite understand what you were trying to tell me. Then I went back and read that part again, and cracked up laughing. I'm such a horrendous speller. Chalk up another inventive MSWord spellcheck. The correct spelling is tourniquet. Thank you so much for catching that…The word put there instead had a very different meaning. *lol* Now I'm thinking what other word mishaps I have in this story._

**_Kwayera_**_ – Heh...the fastest reader on ff.net! I'm very glad you were entertained. grin_

**_Marix, iridescent eyes, XxVampire QueenxX, and alia-harkonnen_**_…Wow! Thanks! I hope I don't let you down in the end. :-) _

**_The Lady Mage_**_ – That's hilarious! How I wish I could write THAT funny. Thank you so much for the eloquent compliment. _

_Since the story is already finished, I promise to update with a new chapter every Saturday._

_And - on that note - here's the next chapter…_

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Chapter 4

Selene tasted blood. Her tongue darted out in curiosity. It was on her lips, in her mouth. She sighed. It was no longer sweet. She had vague sensations of drinking fresh living blood, savoring the pure untainted liquid. She thought it was a dream, her unconscious mind playing in territory she never dared to contemplate when awake. But as lucidity took control, she knew it was no dream. She felt the difference. She had fed. She sighed again, feeling her body infused with a new vigor. She had fed well indeed.

She became aware that she was gently rising and falling in time to deep slow breathing. She moved her cheek, feeling the unfamiliar soft cotton, and the solid flesh beneath. She heard a steady heartbeat. She felt hot, uncomfortably so. The warm body beneath her was exuding much more heat than she was accustomed to. Her nose told her it was Michael, his scent as familiar to her as his face. She was lying on him, breast to chest, her legs between his. She had her arms wrapped intimately around his torso. She could feel his warm hand lying loosely on her bare upper arm. It wasn't the most comfortable position she'd ever experienced, but it was certainly the most unique. Slowly, Selene blinked open brown eyes. 

The palest light illuminated the room. She could just make out the ancient crypt filling her line of sight. Her brows furrowed. The image brought her memory into sharp focus, and she knew suddenly where she was. She was lying naked on top of Michael somewhere in the Paris Catacombs. She raised her head slowly, tentatively, to look up at him. She had been shot in the leg. 

Michael lay stooped against the side of a low stone bench, his head drooping at an unnatural angle. He must have fainted, she thought. The position he was in did not look intentional. In fact, it looked painful. He was going to be very sore when he woke up, she thought instantly. She moved to raise herself, but was suddenly stilled as Michael's hand gripped her arm tightly, trying to keep her in place. Even in sleep he was unconsciously protective. _Rather possessive,_ she thought, bemused. He had been hovering over her the moment they stepped off the train at the Gare de Lyon station. She shook her head. Yet one more thing she failed to anticipate. 

Slowly pulling from his grip, she turned and sat up. The faint light was coming from a flashlight discarded haphazardly on the ground. Its dimming power indicated that she'd been unconscious for quite some time. Perhaps as much as a day, she calculated. She must have lost an enormous amount of blood to be out that long. She flung his leather coat off and looked down at herself. She was nude all right. _Except_…She frowned. _That's odd_. _Why am I wearing my boots?_ She turned her head to look at his sleeping face. "What are you on about?" she said in amusement.

Shaking her head, she bent down to remove her boots, only then noticing the stitched wound on her inner thigh. Curious, she ran her fingers lightly along the sutures. She was surprised at the delicate stitching. "Mother would have loved you, Michael," she said quietly in self-derision. Try as she might, Selene could never master the perfect seam, much to her mother's despair. She noticed her skin had already healed around them. She grimaced. They itched like mad. She hoped they were the kind that absorbed, or Michael was in serious trouble. Scratching the offending itch with one hand, she began removing her boots with the other.

Several minutes later, she had dressed herself in the tattered remains of her uniform. The pants were in good shape save for two nice round holes in the inner thigh area, showing where the bullet entered and exited. But the entire bodice was a goner. Selene pulled the straps of the armored corset as tightly as possible, absently hoping she wouldn't find herself hanging upside-down for any length of time. The irony of the thought brought a quick sniff of amusement from her.

She looked down at Michael. He hadn't moved. He looked terribly uncomfortable. Selene saw her beloved coat underneath him, and sighed in dejection. She could never keep the damn thing clean. It had been soaked in blood. "Well," she said in resignation, "I can't walk around Paris like it's the Wild West." She needed the trench coat to conceal her weapons. As gently as she could manage, she bent down and slid the coat out from underneath him. He moaned in protest, but otherwise did not waken. Picking up the coat, she shook out the muck as best she could and quickly put it on, resigned to the discomfort. She'd worn it before in far worse condition.

Finally, she was ready. Lucky shot or no, she was eager to get out there and deal with the right bastards who put a bullet in her. She had too much energy at the moment to act as well-mannered prey to get their attention. She'd done that already. Time for plan B. She smiled darkly in anticipation. 

  
  
~.~.~.~

Selene burst from the limestone shaft into the early evening of Paris. Focused on her mission, she only absently noticed the startled young lovers next to the platform. As she headed toward the main street, she immediately cast her eye on the rooftops. She knew they were up there, waiting patiently for her to come out of the catacombs, ready to play their cat and mouse game once again. Selene scowled with determination. That was perfectly agreeable to her, as long as they realized it was her turn to play the cat.

She began to make her way down the sidewalk. If the snipers were as good as she suspected, they already had their scopes on her. It was frustrating and disconcerting at the same time. She didn't even know how many were up there. 

The street was much more congested this early in the evening. That worked to her advantage. Selene knew they wouldn't try to attack in the middle of a crowd of humans, and she'd be much more difficult to track because of that crowd. They wouldn't shoot unless she gave them the opportunity, or forced the issue with an overt attempt to take the high ground, to access the rooftops. So, very simply, she needed to access them covertly. With subtle reconnaissance, she combed the block, looking for a quiet way up.

Finally, she spotted it. A few meters in front of her, a man in a business suite walked out of a less-than-stately hotel lobby. He stopped briefly under the canopied entryway to place his door-lock card in his wallet. Seeing this, Selene suddenly made herself twice as conspicuous as she walked by the man. As he looked up at her in surprise, she smiled seductively, getting right into his personal space, and continued down the sidewalk. Not surprised, she heard the man's steps behind her, following.

At the side alley to the hotel, Selene stopped and looked behind her. She cast the male a very promising look. With a finger, she motioned him to follow and stepped into the darkened alley. Glancing excitedly up and down the street, the unsuspecting human followed in eager curiosity. The pedestrians took no notice.

Stopping next to some discarded crates, Selene just stood there watching the man approach. Before he got within two meters, she spoke. "Donnez-moi votre clef."

The harmless middle-aged male stared with a blank smile, stopping within a meter of her. "Pardon?" he said.

Rolling her eyes at his American accent, Selene said again in a very proper English one, "Give me your room key." Her look turned sinister. "Now."

Before his frown began to form, Selene slammed him up against the side of the hotel. She pinned him to the wall with her body. One hand gripped firmly around his throat while the other stuck her Walther P99 painfully in the side of his face. To anyone walking by the alley, it looked like an intimate embrace between lovers. Selene glanced briefly into the dark alley above, ever wary.

His eyes widened in horror. "Oh shit!" he whispered.

Selene arched her brow. "Yes, that's exactly what you'll do if I put a bullet in your head," she said politely. With calm deliberation, she continued. "Now, do as I say, and I promise not to splatter your brains all over this wall."

Shaking in terror, the man nodded his head. 

"Reach into your pocket, pull out your wallet, and drop it on the ground." She glanced to the street as a large crowd of youths walked by the narrow alley. One whistled at the seemingly sexual encounter. She looked back at the man. He was frozen in terror. She shoved the barrel harder, cutting his cheek. He whimpered, and hurriedly did as she ordered. "Now. Close your eyes," she said lightly as she grasped his throat tighter. He gasped for breath, and squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

She brutally smashed the side of her pistol into his temple. He would have fallen like a stone if she hadn't been holding him up by the neck. Keeping an eye out for curious passersby, she let the dead weight slide slowly to the ground next to the crates. Hurriedly, she picked up his wallet and pulled out the room key. With a double take, she noticed a photo inside the wallet. It was an image of smiling woman holding a little girl. Frowning, she had a quick debate with herself and lost. Rolling her eyes in self disgust, Selene crouched down to feel his pulse. Sighing in relief, she quickly stuffed the wallet inside his jacket. 

Conscience clear, she made her way to the hotel entrance without a backward glance.

  
  
~.~.~.~

Room 507. 

Selene slipped the card into the slot and opened the door. She eyed a couple suspiciously as they passed. There were too many people about, causing distractions. She closed the door.

Barely conscious of the room, she tossed the key card on the bed, intent on her goal. The large double-paned window opened on well oiled hinges. Cautiously, she stepped out onto the narrow balcony. She looked about, spotting every movement within her considerable night adjusted vision. She dismissed the human throng five stories below. There had been a brief suspicion she was being followed, but she quickly dropped the notion. She had yet to catch one telltale whiff of lycan anywhere. She shook her head as she looked keenly along the rooftops in her view. It was just like that debacle a decade ago. 

The lycans were there. And yet they were not.

It was damned irritating. She grimaced. Paris was damned irritating. 

Deciding it was safe to attempt a more commanding view, she deftly leapt upon the balcony's narrow iron railing. She balanced her toes on the thin bar with feline grace. Standing briefly to spin about, she crouched and jumped fluidly up onto the sixth floor ledge. Walking along the thin stone shelf, she came to a large bay window jutting out from the steeply graded roof façade. Grabbing the top ledge of the bay window with one hand, Selene placed one foot against the façade and kicked off. Using her hand as an anchor, she swung out above the street, then up and over. Briefly, she had a perfect view of the thoroughfare directly below before her momentum brought her back to the building. Making a complete summersault onto the small flat roof of the bay window, she quickly crouched down low and looked about her. 

_This is better,_ she thought an instant later. Being in the darkened areas, out of sight, was as comforting to her as a well worn pair of boots. Already she felt back in control. The air was clearer. A gentle cold breeze blew her dark locks away from her face. She narrowed her eyes, catching a whiff of something very familiar. 

"Gun oil," she whispered aloud.

They had been here just moments before, no doubt watching her movements below. She hadn't realized how close they were. _I should smell the animals by now. _Her brows drew together. _I'm getting rusty around Michael,_ she thought. _I used to pick up their stench at least quarter mile away._ Quickly, she moved to crouch against one of the many rectangular smoke stacks sticking out from every apartment rooftop.

Facing the street, she looked left, then right down buildings of all equal height and design. She sighed in frustration, seeing nothing. It left only one option. Slowly peeking around the edge of the chimney, she looked to the buildings adjoined to the hotel from behind. 

The apartment building behind and to the right of the hotel stood out from its companions by more than two stories. Light from the half moon cast the taller structure in fine relief. Sitting off the main boulevards, it nestled in amongst the other buildings with surprising furtiveness. From the main streets below, she never would have noticed the imposing apartment block. 

Almost immediately, she spotted it, the glint of a rifle barrel in the moonlight. Squinting, she made out four male figures walking along the back of the building where she was crouched. They were scanning below, down into the backstreet of the hotel as they made their way toward the larger building that was obviously their home base. They were hunting for her. Selene felt the first wave of adrenaline wash through her like ice water. Her face darkened ominously. She had them now.

She worked her way around to the larger building, coming up slowly behind the dark figures. The wind blew laterally, chasing her scent away, as she walked silently, almost boldly, from cover to cover, never once taking her eyes off her prey. The males never looked or sniffed behind them. She shook her head at their arrogant carelessness. These lycans were about to get a painful lesson in underestimating the abilities of a Death Dealer. 

She crouched low in the shadow of the roof ledge overlooking the center courtyard. They made their way up a stairwell connecting their larger home base to the adjacent block of main street apartments. There would be no way to sneak up on them from that direction. The ground around the higher building was completely devoid of convenient concealments. At least they made some allowances for defense of their den.

Casting about quickly for another way at them, she narrowed her eyes on the building itself. She shook her head. There were no doubt cameras everywhere along the base of the building. She couldn't climb up that way. She backtracked around the center courtyard that connected the hotel to their building. The back of the courtyard had an alleyway that wrapped around the southwest and southeast side. On the southeast wall she saw her opportunity. 

A drainage pipe was nestled into a small bend in the building. It ran all the way to the roof. It was a mere three meter jump across the alley to their building. She looked up the three stories to their location. Selene was so close now she could hear their muffled conversation. Making sure no one was standing around the courtyard or alleyway below, she deftly jumped the three meters to the corner drainpipe. Latching onto it with ease, she began to climb.

She silently stepped onto a small ledge that marked the boundary between the seventh and eighth floor. Turning around carefully, she wedged herself into the corner and looked up. There was an ornate overhang now separating her from the lycans. She flexed her fingers and held her breath. Bending slightly, she sprang up and grasped the ledge a meter above her head. 

Hanging in a Y-shape thirty-five meters above the alleyway, Selene stared out absently at the nightlights of the Paris skyline. She stilled her thoughts. She felt the wind buffet her softly. Suddenly, she pulled her legs forward tightly together and then swung them back behind her. Bringing her considerable strength to bear, she used the momentum to spring off the wall as hard as possible and swung her body up into the air. She tucked into a tight ball immediately, gaining an extra two meters in altitude for the effort. As she spun in midair, she pulled out her full auto Berettas. Rising nearly five meters into the air, she more than cleared the final floor to their rooftop location.

Landing lightly to one knee, Selene was ready to fire. But what she saw, what she sensed, immediately froze her in place. The three men facing her had been laughing at some joke when she landed right in their midst. The telltale sign of their true identities, the pearl white fangs of their species, was blatantly obvious. Standing quickly, guns forward at the ready, Selene couldn't believe what her senses were telling her. 

"You're not lycans!" she blurted, completely stunned. The four men were vampires.

The three men looked at her in startled silence. The man facing away from her jerked around. Seeing his scowling face, she was shocked even further. 

"Oh shit," he said in monotone self-disgust. With blurring speed, he knocked both guns out of her hands with one efficient kick.

With the attack, Selene's instincts took control. Flowing with the momentum of his kick, she spun with lightening speed and smashed a backhanded fist into the thin bone of his temple, neutralizing him in one swift strike. The three other vampires had barely reacted. 

She saw the one to her left reach for a handgun just as she turned to hit the first. Seeing he was stepping forward, she grabbed his gun wrist and used her spin again to propel him forward right over the roof ledge. Selene spotted the third vampire from the side of her eye, taking aim. 

Without stopping her turn, she wrenched herself down and rolled to him as he overshot by several centimeters. As she came out of her roll, both fists came forward and connected with this groin, propelling the gunman into the cement wall of the stairway access. Hearing brick and skull crack, she knew the vampire was knocked unconscious. His handgun landed on the ground in front of her just as the fourth decided to make a run for it. 

On one knee, she quickly picked up the huge Desert Eagle .50 caliber handgun. She took careful aim, and shot. BOOM! She watched as the bullet blew the vampire's knee out from under him. He hit the ground, sliding to a rough agonized halt at the edge of the rooftop five meters away. Selene quickly jumped to her feet, ears ringing from the pistol blast. _Why anyone would want to use a hand cannon like this is beyond me,_ she thought in annoyance.

She walked over to the first vampire she had smashed in the head. He had just begun to move again. In one swift move, she grabbed him by the wrist and pinned him place with one hand. He howled as she nearly dislocated every bone from wrist to shoulder. He wasn't going to move. 

"Hello, Selene. You're looking fit…Argh!" Selene yanked his wrist viciously.

"You shot me, Jacob," she growled. She was totally, completely, pissed off. Jacob was a Death Dealer, one of the three spies who disappeared over ten years ago. She disliked surprises. She yanked his arm again just because it made her feel better. 

"Aghh! Fuck! An accident! Would have missed you by a meter easy, if it wasn't for that damned pup of yours!" he grimaced as she increased the pressure.

Her protectiveness kicked into overdrive with that statement. "What do you know about Michael?" she growled through gritted teeth. 

"Goddamn it, Selene! We know! Ack! Everyone knows about the hybrid!" With that word, she eased the pressure, but only a little. She saw the vampire by the access door awaken and sit up. In a flash she pointed the Desert Eagle in his direction. The young male raised his hands immediately in submission. He was harmless. She sent a brief glance to the other vampire writhing on the roof in agony. The high caliber handgun blew off his kneecap. At the very least, he would have a limp for the rest of his immortal life. She had no idea what became of the male she threw off the roof.

Looking down at Jacob, Selene roughly threw him away from her and pointed the pistol at him instead. She stepped away from him in unrelenting caution. "You've gotten soft in your old age." Her former colleague was at least five hundred years old, perhaps even older. He had served the coven with unquestioning loyalty and honor for as long as she'd been there. Seeing him alive was a shock. It went against the grain. Selene voiced her astonishment. "You're supposed to be dead!"

Jacob was rubbing his temple where she had nearly bashed his skull in two. "Surprise," he said lightly as he continued to wince. Still in his seated position, he looked at the blood from his temple. "Jesus Christ, Selene. Did you _have_ to hit me so hard?"

At that, Selene recalled with perfect clarity the kind of person this Death Dealer had been. Jacob had been kind and lighthearted, a complete opposite in personality to her, but an exceptional warrior nonetheless. One of the best, and a right hand to Kahn. Off the top of her head, she thought of several ways he could have overpowered her just now. But he had not. Better than any verbal supplication, his actions and joking words told her he would do her no harm. 

"You need a good knock now and then," she finally said, the acid in her voice considerably lessened.

He grinned at that. She slowly lowered the handgun and sighed, only to raise it up again as the vampire she threw off the roof came bursting out of the stairway access door. The barrel of the .50 caliber handgun was between his eyes before he realized his mistake. He swallowed as Selene scowled at him, silent and unmoving.

"Now you know why I asked you to check the front of the hotel. _This_," Jacob said to the other unknown vampire, "is Selene. I tried to warn you, but no…" Jacob said it tiredly to the much younger vampire. He was still trying to staunch the blood at his temple. "Darrel, just go and inform Vivienne they're here, and get out of my sight."

"Um, I already informed my Lady, Sir," the boy said, still eyeing Selene nervously. "She said to bring them to her with all speed."

"Fine. Now get out of my sight!" Jacob barked loudly, then winced violently and held his head. The novice bolted back through the door with marked enthusiasm.

Selene let out her breath and lowered the heavy handgun. She looked back at Jacob warily as he slowly stood up. He went unhurriedly to the ledge and sat heavily on it.

"Please tell me this is another Vivienne," Selene said with consternation.

Jacob looked up and snorted. "Sorry." He ignored her grimace. "What happened to you after…after that mess with Lucian?"

Selene didn't blink. "Why, did you try to hunt me down?" He looked away and cleared his throat. Selene sighed heavily. She was done with scheming and collusion. She'd had her fill of it in Viktor's coven. "What's going on here, Jacob?" she said quietly.

He looked at her soberly, almost guiltily. "That's for Vivienne to tell you."

A menacing apprehension began to fill Selene.

  
  
~.~.~.~

Michael slowly became aware that something was touching his lips. Then the smell hit him. His eyes shot open as he jerked into semi-consciousness. Food, he needed food. He could smell it close by.

"Drink," said the soft voice. He didn't hesitate, eagerly swallowing warm fresh blood as a bottle was brought to his lips again. As he slowly became aware of his surroundings, the memories of what transpired crashed sharply back to mind. Selene was crouched next to him as he lay propped up against the hard stone bench. She had covered him with his coat. His eyes sought Selene's, looking for reassurance as she held the bottle to his lips. 

Seeing his look, she grabbed his hand and placed it on the bottle, silently telling him he could hold it himself. She got up, placed a paper bag next to him, and sat on the opposite limestone bench. She began to check her weapons. 

He saw that she had found a candle from somewhere. It let off very little light, for which he was thankful. The room was a creepy morbid bloodstained monstrosity he'd just as soon not commit to memory. He stared at the now empty bottle. How could something taste so good and be so revolting at the same time? 

"You ruined my clothing," she said matter-of-factly. He glanced up. She was looking down the barrel of her Walther P99, checking for debris.

"Sorry." he replied almost sheepishly "I couldn't..." He made a gesture as though unzipping something in the general area of his chest. He sighed in embarrassment. "Never mind." 

Selene stared at him soberly, not wanting to embarrass him further. He became instantly edgy under her scrutiny, no longer looking her in the eye. _That's the lycan in him_, she thought. He was showing her unconscious submission. Being with him so constantly made her aware how easily the Elder Marcus was able to enslave the lycans all those centuries ago. One simply subdued the pack leader to control the whole group entirely. It took advantage of their insistence on social hierarchy. Once a lycan established its position within any social group, they adhered to it with blind commitment and loyalty. With a slight grimace, she realized some vampires could be just as vulnerable to that potential weakness.

"You saved my life," she said quietly, almost with accusation, "Again." 

He skewed his mouth briefly into a half smile. "Sorry," he repeated quietly. He was lost in thought, as usual. She often wondered what thoughts went through his head. He was very secretive about them, which had the annoying effect of piquing her curiosity.

Seeing he hadn't moved for the bag, she sighed impatiently. She bent down to remove the food she had brought for him. "Eat." He needed to eat something to remove the anemia brought about by her feeding. She'd learned over the last several months that blood alone would not fully recoup the half-vampire, half-lycan. He needed the kind of protein only meat could bring.

"Where did you get this?" he said, humor in his soft voice as he reached eagerly for the package of sliced roast beef.

"There's a deli not far from here. Sorry, it was the best I could do at this hour." she said. 

He raised his brow, glancing up and down at her attire as he unceremoniously shoved an entire slice of beef into his mouth. She had managed to get her pants on. He wondered briefly how she reacted to waking with boots on and nothing else. She had on only her thick black corset, but no coat. Maybe she opted to leave it behind, he thought. It was soaked in blood. Michael had been secretly imagining her wearing that corset and nothing else for weeks now. _No, make that months._ Reality didn't quite match his fantasies however. She looked scruffy and disheveled, like she had gone through one too many interesting evenings. He smiled briefly and looked down at his food.

Seeing clearly what he was thinking with that smile, she looked down at herself and rolled her eyes. "It's Paris. Nothing fazes these people." 

He shrugged and continued to chew his food. "Actually, I was wondering where you hid your pistols," he said very quietly, keeping his head down.

The ribald joke broke into her intense thoughts, making her smile briefly despite herself. "In the coat now underneath your backside," she replied. She had propped his head with it, feeling guilt that she had left him in such an uncomfortable position. As he sat up to eat, she watched in despair as it slid down his back into the dirt. "Do take care. I have to wear that thing you know." She watched in silent amusement as he glanced underneath him in curiosity, never once stopping his enthusiastic consumption of sliced roast beef. As she continued to watch him eat the food she had eagerly sought for him, her smile faded, the scowl returning in full force. 

It disgusted her, what she was feeling. That she had shown any vulnerability in front of him distressed her profoundly. She should have known better than to be susceptible to something so human as damaged pride. She thought she'd outgrown that particularly bothersome trait decades ago. But Michael brought out all sorts of exasperating character flaws. She felt acutely conscious of her actions around him, and slighted that he would have to take care of her in any way. Maybe it was because he was still so human himself. She wasn't sure, and that uncertainty made her angry, even frightened her when she dared to admit it. Dealing with those vampires had been less stressful. She sighed. 

Selene detested weakness. That was the truth of it. Inexplicably, Michael never failed to bring out some hidden capacity for compassion within her. She hated that, not wanting to waste another moment of her immortality on the pain that caring for someone else could bring. She wanted, needed, to care for no one. Yet despite all her assertions to the contrary, she couldn't help it. She did care. And all her learning, all her experience, did nothing to prevent it. It was damned infuriating.

"Wait," Michael blurted, distracting Selene from her dark thoughts. He had stopped shoving meat into his mouth and was holding the empty water bottle. "Where did you get the blood?" he said in quiet alarm.

Selene raised a brow, not sparing a glance his way as she cleaned her handgun. She decided a bit of fun was in order. "Don't worry about it."

He just stared at her silently, an appalled look forming over his face. He quietly looked at the bottle. "I think I'm going to be sick."

She rolled her eyes, mocking him. "It's not human if that's what you're worried about." She casually blew into the gun barrel before adding under her breath, "The mastiff I found was quite accommodating." 

He was so silent she couldn't help glancing at him to gauge his reaction. She wasn't disappointed. _Mastiff?_ he mouthed silently. He looked up at her with the most deplorable expression. He really did look like he was going to be sick. "A dog?" he whispered aloud. He swallowed violently, a slice of meat still in his hand, now forgotten.

Selene laughed softly at the sight. Michael yanked his head toward her, surprised at the unfamiliar noise. It was a subtle sound, but there was no mistaking the mischievous grin that came with it. She took pity on him. "Oh, for God's sake, please don't throw it up. There's enough blood on the floor as it is. And I don't think the vampires I got it from are willing to give us more." 

It was strange to see her bright smile. Michael just stared at her vacantly while she rapidly reassembled her weapon. With a satisfied look at the status of her handguns, she holstered the P99 and shoved it into her pack. She got up and motioned him to stand. As he tentatively did so, she grabbed her filthy coat. It then hit Michael, what she had said. "Vampires? You found vampires?" His eyes widened with a horrible thought. He held up the bottle still in his hand. "Where did _they_ get the blood?"

She didn't think it was possible he could have exasperated her more at that moment. "This really bothers you. Nobody bit anyone! How many times do I have to tell you we haven't behaved that way for centuries? It's uncivilized." Then she quickly added, "Well, to most of us anyway." Absently, Selene supposed shooting at people wasn't any more civil, but it never stopped her before. _Funny that. _She made a face as she slid on the still blood-dampened leather. "They owe me another jacket, those bastards." 

He barked angrily, "Are you going to tell me what's going on?" He was confused, as usual, and getting more frustrated by the moment. 

Sighing impatiently, she enlightened him. "I went looking for the shooters obviously. They weren't very difficult to find. They were in the same rooftop positions as the night before. Fools. I thought they were lycans." She frowned to herself, "But they were vampires."

"So then what..."

"They want us to meet the person in charge. Of course they said that _after _I had them immobilized," she said dryly. "I'll explain the details on the way." She shoved his backpack into his arms impatiently.

_I don't want to know the details_, he thought as he watched Selene march toward the alcove's arched entrance. He was more than aware what she was capable of committing.

"Are you ready? Can you walk?" she asked, looking impatiently over her shoulder.

"I'm…" He stretched his aching back, hearing several cracks in the process, and took a deep breath. "I'm alright. When did you learn to get around this place?" he said, motioning to the chambers they were in and the catacombs in general.

She shrugged as they made their way down the dark tunnel. "Never been here before. I read about it once. A bit too morbid for me though."

He stopped in his tracks. "Then how do we find our way out? It's a maze."

Sighing in exasperation, she turned her flashlight to the ground. "Follow my blood." He looked down. The trail of blood she left was still readily apparent. He sniffed, now picking up the scent of it quite easily. 

He looked at her knowingly. _Too morbid, huh. _She lived for this shit. Michael quickly brushed past her, eager for fresh air.

~.~.~.~


	5. Purity Pent Up

Underworld - The Turning

Written by  
Wendy Dale Smith  
st7ci@hotmail.com

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**_To Readers:_**_  
Ahem…Since the story is already finished, I promised to update with a new chapter every Saturday, but I'm having trouble holding to that promise. I can't wait! Heh. So maybe I'll post two chapters a week instead._

_This is the lightest chapter in the story. There are, however, some very important plot points. Some situations and character motivations in the movie forced me to deduce some surprising things about Selene…things I really wanted to expand on in this story._

_There is a tiny bit of French spoken in this chapter. This is Paris, after all. Some of the words will be familiar, just as they would be to Michael at hearing them, so don't necessarily skip over it. For those who absolutely must know exactly what the characters are saying, there is a translated version of the dialogue at the end of this chapter._

**_To Reviewers:_**_ Since I'm usually terribly long winded, I've moved the review replies to the end of the chapter.__  
_

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**Chapter 5**

They were shown into a large salon and promptly left alone, their escort closing the door behind him quietly. The dimly lit room was lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves. An immense desk dominated the room as it sat between two huge bay windows. Michael noticed a variety of weaponry mounted on the wall behind the office table. He assumed they weren't just for show. Finally, his eyes moved to the woman standing within one of the large bay windows. She stood with her back to them, taking in the impressive view of the city beyond.

With deliberation, she turned from the window to face her visitors. Surprised, Michael saw that she was an incredibly beautiful woman. Fair-haired, with wavy locks tied away from her face and falling down her back, she was dressed modishly in a plain black blouse and dark gray slacks. Slowly she approached them from around the desk. This was Vivienne, "an exiled vampire" Selene explained to him sketchily as they were escorted through the vast apartments. With warning in her voice, Selene had quickly told him Vivienne was an ancient vampire connected to Viktor's coven, but had been banished some years ago by Kraven. When he'd asked why she was here, in lycan territory, Selene replied with an ominous, "I don't know." Seeing her warning glance at their escort, he asked no further questions. 

Vivienne walked up to them unhurriedly, measuring her guests as she approached. As she stopped in front of the desk and leaned against it, Michael finally got a good look into her eyes. To his surprise, they were completely unlike Selene's. Vivienne's eyes were full of quiet humor and curiosity as they darted back and forth, clearly gauging the two unexpected visitors. If he had expected anything, this would not have been it. In his limited experience, he assumed all vampires were brooding, conceited, and melancholy. But Vivienne seemed clearly at ease and in command, almost regal, despite her youthful appearance. Michael admitted to himself he was intrigued. He saw Selene raise her chin imperceptibly to the woman, letting her know she was undaunted, and not in the least afraid. It made him realize his mouth lay open, and he closed it almost sheepishly. _He _was definitely a little intimidated.

Flashing dark brown eyes at the two grimy newcomers, the woman raised a brow and smiled in unexpected playfulness, her sharp fangs clearly showing. She then turned and looked pointedly at Michael with a decidedly devilish look on her face.

"Selene, where did you find this beautiful boy?" The woman spoke in a naturally soft and seductive French accent as she stared at Michael. She walked casually up to him with a small smile still on her lips, inspecting him frankly. He eyed her warily. "Un Américain, oui?"__

Selene sighed in disgruntlement, "Oui." Noting the easy casualness of their conversation, Michael grasped they knew each other very well. 

"Comment est-il? Bon?" Vivienne was looking him up and down. Michael swallowed with difficulty as he glanced from one to the other. The two women were clearly talking about him, but he suddenly had no idea what they were saying. It was very disconcerting. 

Selene rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't know," she said impatiently under her breath and with obvious reluctance.

Dropping her lascivious grin, Vivienne bent her head in Selene's direction, giving the younger woman a horrified glare of abject incredulity. "Quoi?!"__

"Il y a des choses plus importantes à discuter," Selene said with impatient disdain. Her scowl was getting deeper by the moment. As Vivienne's face burgeoned with realization, Selene frowned back at the woman unapologetically.

"Vous ne savez pas? Mon Dieu, pourquoi persistez-vous avec cette," she waved a hand around, as though grasping for a properly repugnant word, "Virginité?" Michael actually heard the woman growl in frustration as she motioned at him. "Vous gaspillez ce mâle magnifique?" She closed her eyes briefly in disgust and sighed, as though praying for patience. She then looked at Selene and shook her head. "Quel est ton problème?" 

The former Death Dealer crossed her arms and looked away from the woman. She seemed petulant to Michael, like a huffy hurt child. And Vivienne was scolding her like an angry mother. He'd never seen Selene act quite this way before. He was totally enthralled by the exchange.

Noting the other woman's stubbornness, Vivienne sighed. "Selene," she said as her face filled with a concerned pity that Michael could clearly see while Selene refused to even look in her direction. "Nous tous avons eux nos tourments. It is time to let go this pain," she ordered tersely. She continued to stare at Selene a moment more, waiting for some response. Selene simply refused to look at her. Michael desperately wanted to know what had given Selene that glower. Vivienne gently spoke, "M'entendez-vous?" Selene merely shrugged. Vivienne shook her head and sighed. 

"I apologize for my young friend, Monsieur Corvin," the woman said suddenly to Michael in her heavily accented English. She stared worriedly at Selene for a moment more. When Vivienne finally turned her attention back to Michael, she looked him up and down, and smiled. She slowly glided toward him, attitude completely changed, eyes now languid and seductive. She stopped less than a foot facing him, lightly touching his arm, his chest, his neck, inspecting him. "You see, being born under Victoria, that frigid little English monarch, Selene keeps her purity like some…ridiculous badge of honor."

Hanging on her resonating accent, Michael stared at the incredibly beautiful woman, glancing at her lips as they moved in speech, utterly fascinated. Her smell enveloped Michael, reminding him harshly that he hadn't had anything to do with sex for far too long.

"I was born in a less…reserved age," she said as she gently but firmly cupped his groin. Michael sucked in his breath and froze, an erection springing to life in a shocking instant. The woman smiled, and glanced knowingly at Selene, who watched the scene, arms crossed, seemingly cool and unmoved. The woman's smile broadened. "If Selene would not mind, I would gladly alleviate her pet for a night. He seems so…pent up." She said the last words not an inch from his lips, her breath there as arousing as her gently stroking hand below.

"It's this behavior that got you kicked out of the coven in the first place," Selene interrupted with bored smugness.

The woman suddenly stopped her ministrations, to Michael's nervous relief. His embarrassment excruciating, he didn't dare look in Selene's direction.

With a laugh in her voice, Vivienne replied, "And what makes you think I was kicked out?" There was a flash of uncertainty from Selene. Dawning with realization, Vivienne continued, "Oh, I see," and her face suddenly darkened considerably. "Kraven." The woman glanced at Michael, noting his instant scowl at the mention of this individual. "He would do anything to make himself look good. I left of my own accord. As you can see, I no longer needed that ailing coven."

"You were having sex with a prominent politician," Selene accused. "A human."

"He wasn't prominent for long."

"No. Kraven had him killed."

"Yes, I know, by you if I recall correctly." The woman seemed to take delight in infuriating Selene, but it didn't seem a malevolent provocation to Michael. There was a purpose behind this odd exchange he could not quite fathom. It intrigued him so much his mind barely acknowledged the fact that Selene had assassinated a "prominent politician" in her past.

Getting completely aggravated with the woman's seeming guilelessness, Selene practically shouted, "You nearly exposed the entire coven with your carelessness! If the Nazis hadn't interfered, the Partisans would have been all over…"

"Nazis!?" Michael interrupted with a shout, glaring incredulously from one woman to the next. They looked at him, both scowling at being interrupted from the heretofore silent male. "When did this happen?" he said a little more calmly.

Selene thought for a moment. "About sixty years ago."

"Sixty-four to be exact," Vivienne replied, as though it were no large thing.

"You haven't talked to each other in sixty years?" Michael was dumbfounded. 

Vivienne stared at Michael for a moment, then looked at Selene and grinned. "Oh please, let me play with your pet."

"I'm not her pet," Michael said, quite suddenly angry. He was exhausted, filthy, and oddly aroused all at the same time. Even his patience had its limits. He looked down at Vivienne with unintended menace.

Not in the least intimidated by the much stronger man, she raised one brow in caution. "Calm yourself, Monsieur Corvin. I do not mean offense. By pet, I mean lover. And in that regard," she said, looking deliberately at Selene. "You most certainly are not her pet." Selene merely ground her fangs together.

"But enough of my play," she said, suddenly deciding the interview was over. Vivienne quickly stood away from them. She wrinkled her nose as she made her way around the massive desk. "You both smell of the sewers. Get clean and sleep. We will discuss why you are here," she raised her voice at Selene, giving her a scolding look before the other woman could interrupt with a word of protest, "…once you have rested to _my_ satisfaction."

  
  
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_

They were shown to a sumptuous fifth floor suite. Their ever-present escort smiled and bowed slightly. With the most insincere smile she could muster, Selene kicked the door closed in the vampire's face. 

She skewed her mouth into a snarl. "That bitch hasn't changed a bit." 

Michael was inspecting the room with feigned interest. Selene barely glanced his way as she began to pace restlessly. "Rested to my satisfaction. Do you know what she meant by that?"

Michael looked at her. He could see her working her teeth together in anger. He had an idea what Vivienne meant all right. By Selene's tone she knew it too. But he certainly wasn't going to actually reply to that question. He wasn't going to risk her murderous mood being turned in his direction. He rather enjoyed the idea of someone else pissing her off for a change. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, he kept his mouth firmly shut. He continued to investigate the room. Suddenly smelling something, he skewed his nose up, sniffing the air noisily. "Do you smell that?" he said.

Stopping her pacing, Selene frowned at him. Looking at nothing, she concentrated on the air, what it told her. The room had just been cleaned. She could pick out the various detergents used on the linens and carpet, even the wood polish. Underneath, the room smelled musty, old. Most of all, she smelled Michael and herself. They did smell like the sewer, she grudgingly admitted. She shook her head. "What?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I know that smell, but it's not from home." He glanced around the room, trying to figure out what the odor was. 

Selene looked at him thoughtfully. He hadn't realized he called her house his home. For some reason, it brought something else to mind. "Do you understand French?"

Michael turned and looked at her. His face was expressionless, as though he was debating something in his mind. "Just a few words," he finally said. The faintest of smiles began to build in his eyes. That brought Selene up short. She suddenly had an overwhelming need to do something. Spying her bag, she picked it up and went to the dresser table. Quickly unzipping it, she began to inventory her portable arsenal.

As Michael continued to stare at her, a slow smile of disbelief came over him. "You're…a virgin?" he said in quiet awe.

Selene sighed heavily. He sounded like he just discovered some hidden treasure. She glanced at him as she continued to go through her things. She wasn't going to say a word. He had obviously figured it out for himself. _The dense man._

After a few moments, she had enough of his staring. "Wipe that look off your face, or I will for you," she said mildly, not once looking up from her sorting. Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, Selene could actually see him close his mouth abruptly. Finally, when she did look fully his way, she caught him still smiling, though quietly to himself. It was as though he just learned something beyond his comprehension. "Oh, would you please stop," she said, disgusted. 

He just gave her a look and continued to smile, as though savoring this new knowledge. Finally, he couldn't help himself. He grinned outright. "I know something you don't."

Selene looked at him for several beats before she decided not to explore that unbelievably asinine statement. Grabbing her bag, she walked past him to the bathroom. "Congratulations. I'm taking a shower." 

"Wait. What about Vivienne?"

Selene turned around to face him, even more irritated that he could so easily dismiss the subject of her virginity and bring up another woman not a moment later. "What about her?"

He sighed heavily, and gave her a pointed look, the question there obvious.

Selene sighed in frustration. "Look, there's not much to tell. She's an incredibly old vampire…"

"How old?" he interrupted in curiosity.

"I don't know. A thousand years, perhaps more."

"She's not an elder?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course not. She's not pure born, wasn't even a member of the council."

"You said she was with your group, Viktor's."

"She was the ranking female in Viktor's coven, before she was exiled of course." Selene looked away and frowned, thinking back. She had always wondered about that.

"What?" Michael said, seeing her confused frown.

"Vivienne hated Viktor," she said quietly. "It was common knowledge. Yet he tolerated her, no matter how outlandish her behavior was. I could never understand how she got away with it. She never even bowed before him," she said incredulously, easily recalling how appalled she had been at the woman's blatant effrontery. "When she finally was banished, by Kraven of all people, it came as shock. She had committed far worse deeds than sleeping with a politician and never gotten so much as a hand slap."

"How did she end up here then?" Michael asked.

"I don't know," she said softly in annoyance. Selene sensed she was missing something, but her mind could not grasp it. 

After a moment, she sighed, and gave up the puzzle for the time being. All she could think about was getting the stench off her body. She walked to the bathroom door and opened it. She then looked back at Michael, who was lost in thought, as usual. "I won't be long. Under no circumstances will you answer that door. I don't care who it is. I don't care if the whole place is burning down." Without waiting for a response, she closed the bathroom door behind her. 

Immediately, she leaned against it for support. Selene exhaled slowly, recognizing her nerves were getting the better of her. Dropping her bag on the basin counter, she moved to the shower door, opened it, and turned the handle. As she felt for the warmth of the water, her thoughts turned irrevocably back to Michael. 

Selene had hoped he would put two and two together months ago. Having him find out now under these circumstances was, to say the least, "Mortifying," she whispered grimly. She had never cared about her virginity one way or the other. But it was now quite obvious that Michael did. Had she not been a cold-blooded vampire, she would have blushed crimson at his response. His reaction caused humiliation to explode right through her. _He seemed so bloody pleased with himself._

She shook her head in self-defense. It wasn't as if she'd had any opportunities over the last century. No male would come near her. First it was because they feared Viktor, and then it was because they feared Kraven. If _he_ couldn't have her, nobody could. Kraven had taunted her with that from the start, all in the hope of breaking her will. Selene snorted in derision. Resisting that detestable vampire had been effortless. Over time, as Selene became the most fervent Death Dealer of all, she began to notice that the males of the coven simply feared _her_ more than anything else. That suited Selene well enough. She had never suffered for lack of that particular kind of attention. She frowned. _Until now._  

Lost in thought she hadn't realized the water had become hot until it scalded her. She yanked her hand away with a curse. Moving back to her bag on the counter, she finally noticed the privacy door at the other end of the bathroom. She would never have noticed the secret door if it hadn't stood slightly ajar. Grabbing her P99 from the bag, she walked carefully up to it. Then, with a mental shrug, she kicked the door in.

It was a dressing room. It was empty. Selene sighed and rolled her eyes at her own paranoia. Spying several armoires and chests of drawers, she entered with curiosity. Opening one of the cabinets, she drew her brows together in surprise. She ran the barrel of her gun along the clothing, shuffling through the vast array of women's apparel. Elegant gowns of every conceivable era and style hung there. With a dismissive sigh, she closed the door, only then noticing the chest of drawers next to it. Curious, she pulled open the top drawer. 

Laying the gun down, she pulled out the article of clothing lying on top. It was a satin nightgown of the deepest blue violet, a royal purple. She held it carefully away from her as she inspected it, very much liking what she saw and not wanting to get it filthy. She gently rubbed the fabric between her thumb and forefinger. It was exquisite, as was the satin dressing robe that went with it. It looked like it was made for her. _This is Vivienne's doing_, she thought. It was just like her to do something frivolous like this. Selene put the gown down and looked up in confusion. _How could she have…?_

Turning her attention to the other another wardrobe cabinet, she yanked open the door, surprised even further by it's contents. It was full of men's clothing. Pants, slacks, suits for every possible occasion, all neatly pressed and ready to wear.  The chest of drawers next to the cabinet held more men's wear, but of a casual quality. She shook her head. _It must have been here before._ With near trepidation, she went to the last armoire and slowly opened it.

She frowned. The cabinet contained three brand new Death Dealer uniforms, obviously made for her. She pulled out one pristine black overcoat almost reverently. "How could she have known?" she said aloud to herself. A Death Dealer uniform is not something one just keeps around in case guests arrive. Vivienne knew they were coming. _Or at least hoped we would_, she thought. She looked over at the leather uniform made for a male and raised a brow. They went too far with that assumption. She doubted she would ever see Michael in a Death Dealer uniform. It just wasn't his nature.

Sighing, she quickly placed the heavy coat back into the wardrobe and closed it firmly. This went beyond mere hospitality. Whatever speculation Selene could draw about this place so far, she now knew one fact for certain. Vivienne anticipated and planned for them to be there, and not just for a short stay. She refused to contemplate further on what that knowledge entailed, not until she had more information.   

Absently, lost in thought, Selene listened to the shower running. She stretched and bent her shoulders under her overcoat, trying to adjust the corset into a less abrasive position. It wasn't comfortable to begin with, but after two days the rigid material was becoming a tortuous distraction. Selene's gaze wandered irresistibly back to the satin dressing gown. She eyed it with speculation and no small amount of longing. Finally, she sighed heavily. Something told her she was going to regret this. With sudden determination, she went to the chest of drawers and grabbed her gun and the gown. 

  
  
~.~.~.~_  
_

Michael was frustrated. He yanked at the buckle. He could rip it off, he supposed. He dropped his arms to his sides and looked at the blackout curtains he had just closed to block the light. The sun was well above the horizon now. He itched in areas dirt and grime had no business being. He could actually discern with his nose every place on his body he intended to scrub raw, once he finally gained access to the shower that is. Michael glanced at the bathroom door for the hundredth time. _What the hell was taking so long?_ Pursing his lips together, he grabbed the buckle again, ready to rip it off. He yanked, then yanked harder. He heard the door open and he abruptly faced away from it, not wanting her to see he was having trouble with his shoulder holster.

She was silent for a brief moment. "What are you doing?" she said quietly, almost humorously.

He sighed in resignation. He pulled the gun strap buckled at his shoulder as he turned to her. "I can't get it…" His brain froze in mid-thought as he did a double-take in her direction.

Selene stood hesitantly in the doorway wearing a dark silken dressing gown. It shimmered with deep blues and purples in the soft lamplight, hugging to curves and lines in a way her other clothing could never quite convey. She self-consciously stood straighter, prouder, as he gazed at her. He realized he was staring, but he couldn't help it. His chest constricted painfully. He gripped the shoulder strap so hard his knuckles turned stark white. She was indescribable. 

"Beautiful," he whispered. 

Selene blinked rapidly in reaction to that statement. She looked away briefly from his piercing gaze and then slowly walked toward him. Though she was a master at schooling her emotions, he could tell what he just said pleased her. Her eyes focused on the shoulder holster. "Here, let me help," she said in a soft husky voice that seemed incredibly sexy to Michael. He dropped his hand from the strap as she brought hers up to investigate. 

_God, she smells beautiful too_. Her smell buffeted him like a tidal wave, bringing his growing arousal to a painfully constricting and embarrassing position. He looked down at her from a much greater height that usual. She was barefoot, he realized. _Christ._ Even that was arousing him. Her fingers lightly touched him as she attempted to depress the fastener. A gunshot would have registered less acutely on his skin. Her brows furrowed slightly. Gently holding his shoulder, she turned him to look at the back. Her gaze darted to his furtively. He realized she knew perfectly well what she was doing to him. He turned his head away and closed his eyes. It was cruel, but Michael knew it was not in her nature to tease him deliberately. 

"Michael, you've made the strap far too tight," she chastised him gently. "It's supposed to fit loosely," she said as she adjusted the belt around his upper back. "So it won't hinder your movement."

Even now she lectured him. He shook his head, slightly irritated and not at all surprised. Suddenly, the holster eased its constrictive pinch around his shoulders. Having worn the damn thing for almost two days straight, Michael instantly sighed in relief. She turned him around again to undo the buckle. It snapped apart without effort. He quickly pulled it off as his gaze fell on her again. She watched as he blindly dropped the shoulder holster onto the table next to his small machine gun.  

"That will need to be cleaned and oiled you know," she said, looking down at the table. She was referring to the weapon. 

He couldn't resist. "I assume you know how to do _that_." As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he regretted them. Her eyes immediately shot up and then over to him. She narrowed them slightly, chastising him as she turned to move away. Michael realized she knew exactly what he meant by that statement. Ashamed of himself for the juvenile remark, he moved to block her from walking away. "Selene," he said, suddenly contrite. She stopped abruptly, turning her head to look up at him. She was hurt. He could tell. He was about to apologize, when her eyes suddenly focused on his lips, and stayed there. 

All thought left him. She was standing so close. He bent his head down to hers. He glanced down and saw that her lips had slightly parted, were rising to meet his. He felt her sweet breath. She took that moment to look straight into his eyes. 

"Michael," she said softly, almost regretfully. He froze his downward advance. "You reek," she whispered.

She lowered her head away from his as her eyes filled with faint revulsion and amusement. Selene slowly took a step backward, then another. When she was at a safe distance, she glanced down at his obvious arousal. Michael felt humiliation wash over him. She looked back up at his face, not totally unsympathetic. "Cold showers work wonders."

He straightened and looked toward the bathroom. He had forgotten all about needing a shower, forgot that he stank like a septic tank. He wanted to immediately accuse her of smelling the exact same way not an hour before. But then he figured, he'd said enough childish remarks for one day. He turned his eyes back to Selene with a grimace. She stood there, now impervious as ever. He looked down at her gown, at her perfect body underneath. With a sigh of self-disgust, he slunk to the bathroom._  
_

~.~.~.~

_._

_._

_._

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~  
**_TRANSLATION:_**

_"Selene, where did you find this beautiful boy?" The woman spoke in a naturally soft and seductive French accent as she stared at Michael. She walked casually up to him with a small smile still on her lips, inspecting him frankly. He eyed her warily. "An American, yes?"_

_Selene sighed in disgruntlement, "Yes." Noting the easy casualness of their conversation, Michael grasped they knew each other very well. _

_"How is he? Good?" Vivienne was looking him up and down. Michael swallowed with difficulty as he glanced from one to the other. The two women were clearly talking about him, but he suddenly had no idea what they were saying. It was very disconcerting. _

_Selene rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't know," she said impatiently under her breath and with obvious reluctance._

_Dropping her lascivious grin, Vivienne bent her head in Selene's direction, giving the younger woman a horrified glare of abject incredulity. "What?!"_

_"There are more important things to discuss," Selene said with impatient disdain. Her scowl was getting deeper by the moment. As Vivienne's face burgeoned with realization, Selene frowned back at the woman unapologetically._

_"You don't know? My God, why do you persist with this," she waved a hand around, as though grasping for a properly repugnant word, "Virginity?" Michael actually heard the woman growl in frustration as she motioned at him. "You waste this splendid male?" She closed her eyes briefly in disgust and sighed, as though praying for patience. She then looked at Selene and shook her head. "What is your problem, girl?" _

_The former Death Dealer crossed her arms and looked away from the woman. She seemed petulant to Michael, like a huffy hurt child. And Vivienne was scolding her like an angry mother. He'd never seen Selene act quite this way before. He was totally enthralled by the exchange._

_Noting the other woman's stubbornness, Vivienne sighed. "Selene," she said as her face filled with a concerned pity that Michael could clearly see while Selene refused to even look in her direction. "We've all had our torments. It is time to let go this pain," she ordered tersely. She continued to stare at Selene a moment more, waiting for some response. Selene simply refused to look at her. Michael desperately wanted to know what had given Selene that glower. Vivienne gently spoke, "Do you hear me?" Selene merely shrugged. Vivienne shook her head and sighed. _

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**_To Reviewers:_**

**_Adalon_****_ Ithilriel, Seraphina Kye_**_ – Two of my pet peeves is not keeping in character and using bad grammar. Both throw me right out of a story. And if I DO take some risks or evolve the character in any way, then I had better do it in such a way that IS believable. Regarding humour…I felt that humour was the one thing lacking in Underworld, but I understood why it wasn't there. In this story, I use it allegorically, as a kind of metaphor. If done correctly, humour imparts the possibility of hope amongst a morass of tragedy.  ___

**_Dirbatua_****_, Namarei, XxVampire QueenxX, LuthienGranger2004 _**_– Thanks for the encouragement! Hope you like the rest of the story just as much. :-)_

**_Josh Maxwell _**_– Michael has great inner strength and resolve. But at this point in his adjustment, he uses it mostly to constrain his new powerful abilities and instincts. He is submissive and gentle with Selene because he chooses to be submissive and gentle, not because he's acting on instinct as Selene believes. He's just not a warrior. It's not his way, but that doesn't make him weak. Selene is attracted to that combination of strength and compassion. Being good-natured, however, doesn't prevent him from exerting his will from time to time. He'll be assertive with Selene, but only when he feels it's necessary for her welfare and his sanity.  _

**_The Lady Mage _**_– It was so crucial that I keep Selene and Michael in character as much as possible, or else you would not feel any empathy for them later in the story, will not feel what I am going to put Selene and Michael through very believable or viable otherwise…_

**_Lady K2 – _**_I'm so glad you're getting those subtle hints. There's a whole lot of reading between the lines in this story – especially where action belies dialogue and thought. _

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	6. Lupine Surprises

Underworld - The Turning

Written by  
Wendy Dale Smith  
st7ci-at-hotmail.com

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**_To Readers:_**_  
  
_

_I'm posting chapter 6 and 7 this weekend because 6 is so tiny, and 7 is the largest chapter. I'll let you sit on chapter 7 for a few days…because I get this feeling it's a fairly radical notion to digest.___

_Okay!...Being a multimedia designer, I tend to be very visual, very sensory-dependent. When I write, I need to "see" and "hear" everything perfectly in my mind's eye, almost as if I'm watching a movie or a play. To help that purpose, I typically create images to go with my stories. I created one for The Turning that I think you might enjoy. It shows some of the people and places I talk about in this story (most of the places – like Vivienne's Charenton Street apartments in Paris, or the farmhouse in Austria – actually exist). I have the link below, but this site – for some reason – won't let me post the entire link in one single line. All you have to do is cut/paste the URL into the address box of your browser and then add that next line to the end of the URL [see link below]. _

_www.wdsdesign.com  
/websites/underworld/Underworld-The-Turning-17.jpg_

**_To Reviewers:_**_ Just a reminder, I've moved the review replies to the end of the chapter.__  
_

* * *

**Chapter 6**

"I can't sleep," Michael said aloud with a sigh. 

He looked over at the bed again. He'd been brooding over the bed's sleeping occupant for two hours now. He turned his head to the clock ticking quietly on the small fireplace mantle. _Make that two and a half hours._ He sighed. It was past noon. He was hungry. He was bored. 

Admitting defeat, Michael sat up and stretched aching muscles. While the chaise lounge looked comfortable and inviting, it wasn't. Standing cautiously, he silently walked to the foot of the bed to resume his vigil. He never thought watching someone sleep could be so fascinating, but Selene managed to make even that an enthralling activity. He watched her torso rise and fall with each slow shallow breath. She barely moved. She looked almost dead.

He had suspected she'd been exhausted. Selene had been more irritated and impatient than usual, despite the circumstance they were in. He had walked out of the bathroom and found her fast asleep, in the middle of cleaning the weapon she insisted he carry. As gently as he could, he had moved her to a less awkward position and covered her with his blanket. Much to his regret, she did not stir. Looking at her face now, he could not believe how angelic she seemed, how young and innocent. It made him ache to hold her. He would have been content just to do that. 

_Liar,_ he thought instantly. He quietly snorted in derision. The moment he had first laid eyes on Selene in that Budapest subway, he had imagined what it would be like to make love to her. That hadn't changed. _But something had_, he thought. One thing had changed. And he would have been deluding himself if he said it didn't matter.

He shook his head slowly as unconscious awe crept across his face. Since the moment she confirmed her virginity with staunch silence, he couldn't get the thought out of his head. Not once, not one time in his considerable repertoire of sexual fantasies had he imagined her as a virgin. He just could not comprehend how someone so experienced in so many other respects, and someone so beautiful, would not have had at least some firsthand knowledge in lovemaking. The notion that no one had touched her immediately intoxicated the lycan in him, had nearly consumed him with a wave of intense possessiveness. But his human brain had gotten that primitive part of himself quickly under control with one simple realization.

He was a complete idiot. 

He _should_ have known. He _should_ have realized it. All the signs had been there. She'd practically hit him over the head with it on many occasions. Selene was born into an era that held a woman's purity to the highest standards. Even he had studied enough history to know that much. She had been a maiden when she'd been turned. That her vampire sire had been Viktor put her on a pedestal that no ordinary male could touch. And she had hated the one male that might have been suitable, that son of a bitch who shot him, the one she called Kraven. Selene had confessed to him that the bastard tried to claim her on several occasions. Michael knew instantly what she had really meant. Kraven had tried to rape her. Her training as a Death Dealer and Kraven's persistent fear of Viktor had been the only thing that kept him at bay. 

Though she showed no lingering pain from the ordeal, Michael hurt for her anyway, and felt she had every right to be cold and unyielding. How could someone exist in such a cruel and brutal environment and not be deeply affected? The path she had chosen as a vampire, to be a Death Dealer, only made her isolation from her own kind that much more pronounced. Michael failed to grasp the consequences of that emotional rigidity. That her sexuality would be shut down as well never entered his mind. He felt callow and insensitive for not seeing that from the beginning. He felt like shaking her awake just so he could confess to being a self-centered, stupid ass of a male. But he didn't. He doubted she would appreciate his earnest apology.

Instead, he sat back down again on the chaise lounge. He looked at the clock. _Three hours._

He heard quiet footsteps out in the hall again. It was the fifth time in three hours he had heard someone walk past their door. He found it odd that vampires would be up and around in the middle of the day. Selene had told him vampires were instinctively compelled to sleep during daylight. He sat up straighter. He skewed up his nose sharply. _There's that smell again_, he thought, now completely curious. As quietly as he could, he stood up and walked to the bedroom door, and listened. 

His eyes widened in alarm as a shadow appeared below the door. _Someone's standing right there._ The person seemed to hesitate, then suddenly walk back they way they had come. 

Coming to a hasty decision, Michael dashed for his bag and pulled out his sneakers. Forcibly pulling them on his feet, he hobbled back to the door. Giving Selene one last check, he opened the bedroom door and silently closed it back again.

No daylight penetrated the darkened hallway. It was only slightly better illuminated than their bedroom. He heard one of the main elevators at the end of the hallway open with a ding. Creeping silently, he tried to catch up to the snooper before they disappeared down the elevator. Michael peeked around the corner just as the doors closed. Hesitating for just a moment, Michael looked back at their bedroom door. _She can take care of herself_, he assured himself, and hit the elevator button going down.

Relying on intuition, he hit the lowest button, "B2" for basement level 2. The smell was exceptionally strong in the elevator. As he felt the elevator come to a stop, he suddenly heard a raised angry voice just outside. As the elevator began to open, he saw four grimy looking men being reprimanded by a fifth dark headed male who was facing away from him. As the dark-headed man turned in his direction, an instant, evil memory came to Michael. He recognized him immediately. 

Wrath in it purest form engulfed Michael. Without thought, he snarled a deep, thunderous roar, and attacked. 

-.-.-.-.-

Selene's eyes shot open. 

In a flash, she grabbed her Beretta from under the pillow and sat straight up, pointing the weapon blindly in front of her. Looking quickly about, she instantly sensed Michael's absence. "Shit," she fiercely whispered as she flew the cover off and ran for the bathroom.

Three minutes later, Selene, fully dressed in one of the new Death Dealer uniforms, marched out of her quarters, gun in hand. She was several steps down the hallway when Vivienne rounded the far corner in her direction. At seeing Selene in her new warrior gear, with a weapon at the ready, Vivienne became instantly angry. "Put that away. You're in no danger here." 

Selene held the pistol up warily, with the clear intent of doing no such thing. "Where's Michael," she said threateningly.

Before she knew what happened, Vivienne snatched the pistol from her hand and slammed it on the hallway table. "Do as I say!" she barked. Vivienne then abruptly turned and walked back the way she came. "Come, before it is too late," she said urgently over her shoulder.

Selene scowled murder at the woman, and hurriedly followed, having no choice but to leave her precious handgun on the hallway board. She was too afraid for Michael to argue.

They took the service lift down to basement level two. As the doors opened, Selene finally noticed the faint smell Michael had caught earlier, the vaguely familiar odor he could not identify. She instantly became alarmed for it was very familiar to her. Her hands started to shake. She wished desperately for her weapons. With frightened hesitation, Selene followed Vivienne out into the basement's stark hallway.

Seeing and feeling the other woman's fear, Vivienne was brought up short. She looked at Selene with a piercing intensity, but her voice was gentle and sincere. "You must trust me, Selene. No harm will come to you or Michael in my home. I swear it. Do you understand?" Selene's eyes darted to the turn in the hallway. She heard Michael's low growl, could smell him in his hybrid state. She could smell the others as well. Her lips trembled, but she managed to nod once. Vivienne sighed sharply. "Come now," she said as she walked around the corner. Selene steeled herself and followed. 

Nothing could have prepared her for the sight that greeted her. 

They were standing in the shadowy lobby next to the main lift banks. Michael, fully transformed into his much stronger hybrid form, had Kraven suspended in midair with one clawed hand around his throat. He was enraged, and choking the life out of the hated vampire. Blood poured from Kraven's throat where Michael's claws had penetrated flesh. But what made Selene draw her breath sharply in fear were the four lycan males standing on the far side of Michael, just off the hallway beyond. Two were in their wolf state, towering almost two and a half meters in height. All the lycans were shifting and trembling as they fixated their gaze on Michael. By their stance and their smell, it was clear to Selene they were overwhelmed with terror. Feeling exposed as she stared at the lycans, Selene reflexively opened and closed her hands into fists at her sides. She had no defenses, no weapons. 

"You must tell him to stop. Put him down," Vivienne ordered Selene.

"Why?" she replied coldly as she continued to eye the lycans. Almost absently, Selene noticed Kraven. He seemed on the verge of unconsciousness. He croaked out a gasp as Michael growled again. Despite her initial surprise at seeing Kraven, she could have cared less if Michael broke the bastard's neck.

"Just do it! Before he kills him!" Vivienne's voice held desperation that was uncharacteristic of the woman. It distracted Selene enough to shoot her an annoyed frown. With a reluctant twitch of her mouth, Selene cautiously stepped toward Michael. 

Making sure Michael stood between the lycans and herself, she moved to stand at his side. Never once taking her eyes off the four frightened males, she leaned in and brushed her shoulder against his, effectively capturing his attention. He growled. Selene twitched her nose at the smell of Kraven's blood and looked up. Michael held the vampire aloft without effort. She knew all Michael had to do was squeeze his hand into a tight fist to rip Kraven's throat out. _What was holding him back?_ She couldn't quite fathom. Then Michael turned black eyes in her direction. She realized with shock that he was in full control of his faculties, knew perfectly well what he was doing. He was simply overwhelmed with rage. His black eyes questioned her, asked what she wanted him to do.

With a reluctant sigh, she said, "Put him down."

Michael stared at her for a few moments more, and then turned his head back to Kraven. With a quick flick, he tossed the vampire across the room. Kraven slammed into the steel lift door and collapsed, unconscious. Cautiously, Vivienne moved to Kraven, bending down to check his condition. 

Selene knew he would live, despite his seeping neck wounds. To her disappointment, it wasn't the thick, bubbling red of arterial blood. Dismissing Kraven, she instead kept her eyes fixated on the lycans. Seeing the two transformed into giant wolves made her want to escape. But like the dogs they were, she knew they would instinctively chase after her if she tried to run. She put her trust in Michael instead. 

Michael turned his head slightly back in her direction and blinked his black eyes, gauging her emotions. Her fear made him angry. With a low growl, he turned his fury toward the four lycanthropes. Michael walked slowly to them, feeding off his anger and instinctive protectiveness. He felt alive with power in his feral state and feared nothing, especially the four lycans trembling in front of him. He could taste their terror. 

Michael approached the largest in wolf form and roared, daring him to try anything, wishing that he would. The eight foot lycan raised his chin and immediately began to shrink back into human form. The young man he became was drenched in sweat and shaking as he kept his chin in the air. He exposed his neck to the hybrid, keeping his arms to his sides, not threatening in any way. Michael walked up to him, getting within an inch of the man's neck. He blew out through his mouth and nose violently, smelling, making the young man flinch and shut his eyes. Michael snarled deeply, but did nothing else. 

He then moved to the other lycans, in turn performing the same instinctive ritual. They all showed him the same supplication. He walked back up to the largest young man, who still had his eyes firmly closed. Michael stared at the lycan and took deep, drawn out breaths, calming himself just enough to change back into his human form. Slowly, the other man opened his eyes and found Michael's blue-green ones staring back at him. He immediately looked to the ground, still terrified of Michael. The other three lycans followed suit. 

"Very fascinating," Vivienne said under her breath, still crouched at Kraven's unconscious form. Selene looked down at the woman and saw she had been analyzing Michael's actions with great interest, just as Selene was doing. Vivienne didn't seem at all surprised or alarmed at Michael's hybrid form. In fact, Vivienne seemed exactly as she had just professed. She was fascinated with Michael. Selene just shook her head at the baffling French woman.

Michael was shaking violently now, not from fear, but from pent up rage. Breathing deeply, he was doing everything in his power to maintain control. The air crackled with the energy he was attempting to contain. The lycans didn't move. They stared at the ceiling, the walls, at anything but the hybrid. They certainly did not stare at the women standing behind him. Michael took a couple of steps back from them, hoping some distance would help. He didn't want to kill anyone, and he quickly realized that's what his rage would have led him to do.

"Michael," Selene said softly, suddenly. With a wary look at the lycans, he turned to her. With the slightest movement of her head, she commanded he approach her. With a warning look back at the four frightened men, he slowly walked up to her. He was shaking still, completely tense. She had seen this before, when he had slaughtered a sheep during full moon. Calmly, she took hold of his hand and laid her palm on his chest. She looked unblinking into his eyes. Michael stared back as he took several deep breaths. He then looked down and closed his eyes. Finally, he nodded he was okay. 

Selene then turned her head to Vivienne and nodded. The other woman stood slowly, riveted on the couple. Finally, she shook her head in quiet amazement, and turned her attention to the four pitiable young men.

"Damien," Vivienne said softly. Selene saw one of the lycans jump. "Go and wake Jacob, please." The lycan bowed to her with great reverence and took off down the hall, but not without skirting Selene and Michael in wary fear first. The behavior was inexplicable to Selene. One moment they were the embodiments of malevolence, and now they were acting like abused pups. Michael hadn't even touched them.

In fact, Michael wasn't even looking in the lycan's direction. He didn't want to risk eye contact that would send him back into a rage. Instead, he stood rigidly next to Selene, with his head up, arms crossed, and simply stared blankly at nothing. To Selene, Michael looked imperious and arrogant, traits she had never seen from him before. _You snob,_ she thought, silently amused at his unconscious alpha display. 

Vivienne then ordered one lycan, called Batiste, to take Kraven to the infirmary. Batiste, the large one Michael first put down, cautiously walked around Michael and Selene and picked up Kraven, throwing him brusquely over his shoulder. The lycan was still in his boxers, Selene noticed with further humor. She understood that the extreme tension of earlier was giving way to the release of lighter emotions, now that she knew she was in no danger. Michael looked at her in puzzlement then, picking up on her sudden change in mood. She shook her head slightly, not wanting to alarm Michael further by laughing outright.

As Batiste turned around, she then noticed the brand on his muscled shoulder. It was the letter V set in a circle. She instantly recognized the mark, Viktor's brand. It was just like the one Lucian had on his shoulder. With a start, Selene then realized it wasn't Viktor's mark at all, but Vivienne's. She couldn't quite hide her shock at what the brand entailed.

Vivienne ordered the last two lycans. "John, Darrel, go tell Eleanor to make the rest of the floor safe for me and my guests. Thank you." As they bowed low and ran to do Vivienne's bidding, Selene noticed the other half nude lycan had the same V-shaped brand. 

Vivienne finally looked back at Selene and Michael, and noted Selene's shocked astonishment. The older vampire instantly became alarmed. "What?" she said, and looked about her.

"You're the collaborator," Selene accused. "The one who was sending money and weapons to the lycans, to Lucian!" 

Vivienne just stared at the younger woman for several seconds. Finally, she couldn't help it, she snorted in laughter. "If you have just figured that one out, then you had better brace yourself, ma fille," she said, still chuckling. She turned and moved toward the opposite hallway. "Come with me," she ordered with no small amount of humor, as she headed for two large double-doors. 

-.-.-.-.-

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**_To Reviewers:_**

**_Lady K2_**_ – Thank goodness someone liked the nightgown scene! Given the rather rank and disheveled state Selene was in, I don't think any woman could have resisted the tactile seduction of an exquisite satin nightdress. This was Vivienne's gentle, yet crafty way of reminding Selene that she was, indeed, still a woman. Being well over a thousand years old, I imagine Vivienne would have the shrewd perception of a near clairvoyant. She's seen it all, heard it all, and probably done it all many many times. To Vivienne, Selene is a child, one that's been abused for far too long._

**_Redd_**_ – Wow! Thanks! Yes, I will make the attempt to update twice a week now. It all depends on how much time I have to post and reply to everyone who posts a review. _

**_Nickyjay_**_ – I read your story and I see no fault with your reasoning. It works great! I just went that much further – she's a woman who remained celibate to pleasure and married to the hate-filled crusade of revenge. I just see Selene as an all-or-nothing type gal._

**_XxVampire QueenxX _**_– Whew! I was worried no one would like this chapter, or Vivienne for that matter._

**_Iridescent eyes_**_ – I just read Heart Veneer a couple days ago…THAT was a great story! In that light, I think you might like what I have in store for Selene._

**_Marix_**_ – I dearly appreciate your support. grin_

**_Luwana-Fluff-Dragon_**_ – Story. Story. Story. That's everything. If there's no set plot, then even the best characters in the world will fall flat on their ass in the end. It's the plot that drives and evolves the characters. It's the plot that makes you care about what happens to them. On the other hand, keeping the characters in character makes the plot more viable and believable, so adherence to that is a must as well. It was a huge challenge to keep them in character with the set goal I had in mind. I sure hope you enjoy how I end up solving my dilemma. I'm very flattered that you're enjoying the story so far._

**_Jubillie-gurl_**_ – I explain the whole virginity thing a little bit more thoroughly in this next chapter (chapter 6). It's kind of tragic. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story!_

**_Josh Maxwell_**_ – I'm very happy you like Vivienne! Regarding your request…I think I will accommodate you very nicely. [grin]_

**_Lal_**_ – Heh…oh she was more than a little jealous at what Vivienne did…her reaction later in their suite was a direct result of that jealousy. You'll see more of that._

**_Bina_**_ – I'm glad you're enjoying Vivienne…and I think you'll be very happy with how I answer your question. Please, keep reading! _

**_Katylar_**_ – I don't want to upload all at once because it gives me the opportunity to do one final grammar check with each chapter, and it allows me to break up review responses. I think it's important to give each and every one of you a decent reply. It matters, and this way I get to respond in kind._

**_Hanachan2_**_ – Good God, you're French. I'm so busted. Svp, pardonnez mon Français horrible! Je suis heureux que vous appréciez le fic. _

**_Orchadlo667_**_ – I'm very glad you're enjoying the story. But…I have to say…this story is going to go R-rated in a big way toward the end…just to warn you younger folks! I'll be giving a big heads-up when that occurs. _

**_Agent Alana_**_ – See my response to Katylar. Hopefully, these next two chapters will make you happy for a little while. [grin]_

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	7. The Daylight Guardians

Underworld - The Turning

Written by  
Wendy Dale Smith  
st7ci-at-hotmail.com

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**_To Reviewers:_**_ Just a reminder, I've moved the review replies to the end of the chapter.__  
  
_

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**Chapter 7 **

Without ceremony, Vivienne pushed the huge double-doors open wide. Taking two quick steps, she stopped briefly at the edge of a small semi-circular rise, and surveyed the immense room before her. Standing on either side of her, Michael and Selene could only stare in disbelief. The gigantic space was easily over a hundred meters square. They took the half dozen steps down into the chamber with caution, following the coven's leader into the lycan's den.

What registered to their eye first were the four-meter-thick support columns that lined the massive room at regular intervals. The huge blocks of rock were hewn from the very limestone that formed the foundation under Paris. Light fixtures imbedded in the columns illuminated the heavy-laden dark spaces with a soft golden glow. The columns sat in groups of four, creating alternating light and shadow that broke up the cavernous expanse into orderly, square sections. In between these sections were placed large open rooms that conformed to various activities. To their immediate right was a library sectioned off by four of the limestone columns. To their left was a cordoned off space that held sofas and couches and a large television set. As Selene looked farther down the wide central hallway, she could clearly see a recreation center, another library, a glass enclosed conference room, and what she guessed were several classrooms.

Vivienne paused at the first hallway intersection and nodded down a narrower hallway to her right. "Down there are the dormitories and the larger family rooms." She then turned to her left, "And in that direction is the dining hall and infirmary." As she began to walk again, she continued, "Up ahead is our laboratory, training room, and armory." Selene's ears pricked at that last word. With a space this large, one could store quite an arsenal. She swallowed down the unease starting to clench in her stomach like nausea.

"There is enough space for at least three hundred people," Vivienne said with no little pride as she made her way slowly down the immense central hallway. She was taking obvious delight in their gaping and awestruck reactions.

Selene simply shook her head in disbelief. What her eyes were telling her was making it difficult to believe this was a lycan's den at all. Then she became aware of a more fundamental problem. It was the smell, or rather, the lack of it. She looked down at the hallway floors. The floors were constructed from a carefully laid ceramic tile with stylized mosaics. The mosaics were interspersed with elaborate geometric patterns as far as she could see down the halls. The hallways were gleaming and pristine, spartan in their cleanliness. She could even smell the floor wax from a recent polish. Giving one of the massive limestone columns closer inspection, she saw elaborately carved reliefs in more geometric patterns all along its surface. Great care was given to the building of this structure. It had an ancient air about it.

Looking up ahead, Selene saw they were approaching a large, orderly crowd at the other end of the massive main hallway. She breathed in deeply, trying to smell them, and only just discerned the entire group of lycans. Selene looked over at Michael. He seemed not to notice the lack of odor or filth. He was too busy looking about him in avid, wide-eyed curiosity. _Not a bloody care in the world,_ she thought with irritation.

"I noticed your brand on their shoulders," Michael said suddenly. Selene looked sharply back at him, surprised he had noticed the marks as well, and knew what they meant.

"_My_ brand?" Vivienne replied with an angry snort of aggravation, and stopped to look at him. It was clear then to Michael that this was a sore issue with Vivienne. "_I_ did not order they burn that into their skin! They are branding each other. The young ones think it is 'cool', like some sort of gang ritual. Les enfants d'aujourd'hui…" she mumbled, shaking her head in consternation. She looked young and beautiful to Michael, yet she sounded more like a stodgy grandmother. _This is the woman who grabbed my crotch?_ he thought in amusement.

Michael had his senses trained on the group of lycans the moment he stepped into the massive room. He could sense their nervous anxiety across the hundred meter distance. Their fear calmed his own quickly enough. He took comfort in knowing they were afraid of Selene and him. It left more room in his thoughts to worry over her. He glanced at Selene out of the corner of his eye, keeping careful watch. She was so tense he could taste it, and it took every bit of willpower he possessed not to hover over her. That action, he knew, would only make her tension worse.

Suddenly, Michael heard rapid footfalls coming from behind and to their right. Someone was running toward them from the direction of the dormitories. Michael looked at Selene in alarm. She was several paces back, lagging behind. She stopped and scowled, and turned to look back at the hallway intersection they had just passed. She took a cautious step backward, listening, and tensing. He shot a glance at Vivienne, who seemed to be tallying the large group of lycans waiting for them. Then she suddenly grimaced in comprehension. "Merde," Vivienne whispered through clenched teeth as she immediately put a calming hand on Michael's arm. She turned back to Selene. "Selene! Get out of…!"

Too late, the body came barreling around the corner straight at Selene. She only had time to raise her arm protectively, but Michael was much faster. In a flash, he halted the hurtling body with one palm in front of her. The figure bounced off Michael's raised hand like it was a brick wall and hit the hard tiled floor with a bone jarring thud. Michael looked down at the lanky male. The lycan had an odd smell…_like a puppy dog,_ Michael realized in surprise. He was just a kid, a young adolescent. The boy's eyes were fixated in shock upon the dark female figure looming over him. Michael looked up and noted with dismay that Selene had a very rare, very sudden, expression of pure fury. She was about to vent on the poor boy.

Michael instantly had to change tactics, grabbing Selene as she launched herself, fangs bared, at the unfortunate teenager. When she hissed, that was enough to get the boy motivated to move. Scrambling backwards on the floor like a desperate crab, the youth took off in the opposite direction, disappearing back around the corner.

"Well," said Vivienne mildly, "maybe now he'll stop running in the hallways." Michael, still holding Selene, looked over at the woman in charge. Inexplicably, he sensed she was hiding humor. He looked back at Selene as she angrily shoved his arm away. He watched as she turned her furious gaze in Vivienne's direction. _Uh oh,_ Michael panicked, and looked desperately at Vivienne. She was grinning now like a madwoman. "What can I say?" she said with a shrug. "I told you to brace yourself," she said, now chuckling softly. Still smiling, she turned toward a well-dressed lycan woman who was tentatively approaching them from the far group. Vivienne then walked with the lycan to the next intersection several meters away, already in deep, quiet conversation.

Michael looked at Selene. She was eyeing the coven leader with murderous intent. Vivienne wasn't making this easy for Selene at all, Michael realized. She was taking a strange sort of enjoyment in Selene's angry and confused reaction to her domain. It confused Michael as well, because he sensed Vivienne wasn't a malicious person, and did not wish them harm. Selene suddenly intruded into his thoughts.

"She's rubbing my nose in it," she said angrily, quietly.

"In what?" he said.

Selene looked up at him, and he was surprised to see a look of shame and humiliation pass over her face. The emotion was covered immediately. "My ignorance," she finally replied enigmatically. With a deep breath, Selene straightened her spotless black leather jacket and walked with determination closer to Vivienne.

Michael sighed, feeling stupid again. He realized that while _he_ might have been feeling a sense of satisfaction in seeing this grand lycan den, Selene was finding it very traumatic. Michael could remember quite vividly that Lucian had been well-mannered, with smooth, refined speech. His recollection of Lucian's stronghold in Budapest, however, was vague and tumultuous. It was a home to sewer rats, not intelligent, sentient beings. The lycans he had witnessed there seemed like mindless killing machines, like animals. If that was the only characteristic the lycan's ever allowed the vampires to see during their war, then it was no wonder Selene had such a low opinion of them. _Why? _he thought. Why did the lycan's do that? He could only shake his head in irritation. He watched Selene warily approach the two softly conversing women.

Getting no closer than several meters from the statuesque lycan standing with Vivienne, Selene crossed her arms impatiently. The lycan was attractive, Selene admitted begrudgingly, and dressed quite stylishly in a formal business suit. Selene could just discern the two talking about various things, none of which involved her. She tried to ignore them.

Her curiosity got the better of her when she heard the lycan mention a database being down. _What would a lycan know about computers?_ Then Selene clearly heard the word "réservations d'hôtel," "concierge," and "sommelier" and realized they were talking about the attached hotel. _They must own it_, she thought suddenly in surprise. They were discussing business. She heard a cell phone beep and the woman quickly pulled it out. The lycan then shook her head apologetically at Vivienne and glanced discreetly in Selene's direction. She saw Vivienne gently pat the lycan's arm with shocking familiarity. The lycan bowed her head in respect and departed hurriedly down another hall toward the area Vivienne said contained the infirmary.

"I apologize for Eleanor. She is alpha of our den," Vivienne said as she approached her guests. "And my hotel director. It takes all her time. One emergency after another," she sighed as she looked up to the high ceiling in mild exasperation.

"You own the hotel?" he said in surprise. Michael had almost forgotten it was actually in the middle of a work day above.

The older vampire nodded. "And the entire block." She motioned them to continue, but Selene hesitated.

Selene took a step backward, toward Michael. He then knew it was starting to get to her. It was too much information, too quickly, even for him. He couldn't imagine what was going through Selene's mind. He could feel her rising panic as she stared with unease down the hall. He looked up at Vivienne and drew his brows together, silently and unconsciously asking the woman for help.

Vivienne just shook her head, suddenly sober, revealing her true concern. He understood then that Vivienne was deliberately taking her time walking toward the large group of lycans. It was for Selene's sake, to give the younger woman time to get her fear under control. Michael also knew it wasn't just Selene she was concerned about. It was the lycans in her charge, as well. This was a delicate and dangerous situation, for Selene had been a Death Dealer trained to do one thing very well. Vivienne must have known she could kill almost as easily without her weapons.

Vivienne looked down the hall and sighed slowly, as though trying to decide something. Finally, she grimaced with determination. "Come, Selene. I want you to meet my daytime staff," she ordered quietly with an encouraging, small smile. Selene looked at Vivienne, then looked at the lycans, then looked back at Vivienne again. Michael saw Vivienne's expression change, becoming taunting. Selene narrowed her eyes, and shot a glance at Michael. Michael looked back blankly, innocently. She sighed and stared at the lycans. When she started working her teeth together, Michael knew she had talked herself into it.

"Fine," she said simply.

Vivienne smiled, and without another word led them to the two dozen lycans that were now standing shoulder to shoulder in an orderly line down the length of the hallway. With a clench of her jaw, Selene followed a pace behind, Michael right behind her.

One by one Vivienne introduced her "staff" to Michael and Selene. She knew each of their names, and their job function. The lycans nervously bowed or curtsied, first to Vivienne and then to Michael and Selene. Some were in work uniforms and some were casually dressed, while others were dressed in plain business suits. Michael noted that most of them were women, and all the males seemed young, just like the four he had subdued at the elevators. _Where are the men?_ he wondered ominously. All were modestly attired, with no jewelry or signs of ostentation. They worked in the hotel, the restaurant, and the various shops within the city block.

None of them looked the two vampires or the hybrid directly in the eye. They kept their heads downcast, submissive, but Michael felt no animosity from them. Michael sensed that they revered their leader, and that they were in awe of the ancient lady. He felt his initial intimidation of Vivienne creeping back into his emotions. She held absolute power over the immortals around her. To both vampire and lycan alike, she was queen.

Selene kept her distance, her guard firmly, stubbornly in place. He knew she could sense their fear of them as easily as he could, yet she still acted like they would attack her at any moment. He looked down the row of people he had just met. He knew they were lycans, werewolves, all. But they were in no way the evil creatures he half-expected they would be. With a start and a glance at Selene, he suddenly understood what the problem was.

They weren't soldiers. They weren't trained killers. Without the full moon pushing them, they wouldn't change, would in no way feel compelled to defend themselves against a Death Dealer, or a very powerful hybrid. These lycans wouldn't know how. And they thought _he_ was the animal, the wolf in the hen house. Michael felt shame for taking consolation in their frightened state, and suddenly wished he could remove their fear of him. He was no soldier, no killer.

When Vivienne finally completed her introduction, she smiled at the quiet servants, radiating gratitude Michael knew the lycans could sense. "Thank you for enduring my disruption," she said gracefully. "You may return to your duties now." Without preamble, the entire group began to rapidly disperse to their various daily routines. Within seconds, the hallway had completely emptied. Vivienne sighed in relief.

"Are you finished?" Selene said suddenly, rudely, to Vivienne. Selene exuded anger. It was the only emotion she was willing to acknowledge.

Vivienne scowled back at the younger vampire, but held on to her patience. "Not quite," she said quietly, ominously. She turned and walked to the very back of the colossal chamber, past several doors with darkened red lights above them. _That's the armory_, Selene guessed. It was characteristic of indoor firing ranges. The caution lights were used to indicate when weapons were being fired. But Vivienne ignored those rooms, much to Selene's confusion. Selene had been convinced the tour would end with a display of their weapons capabilities. Instead, Vivienne took them to a darkened alcove in the very back of the facility. She walked quietly to a door nestled in the farthest back corner and opened it.

"Here is our most precious resource," she said in a whisper as she carefully opened the door set off from the main hall. They entered a brightly lit vestibule with a desk to one side and large reinforced window on the other. Another brightly painted door sat opposite the main entry. At Vivienne's entrance, a very pregnant female sitting at the desk started to awkwardly stand. Vivienne motioned sternly for her not to get up. "Pourquoi êtes-vous ici, Geraldine? Je vous ai commandé de reposer," she scolded gently, then switched to English without thought. "These babies can do without their teacher for a few days."

The lycan sat back down guiltily, but gratefully. "Pardonnez-moi, Madame. M-My back was hurting…" she trailed off when she saw who followed Vivienne. Michael saw her actually shrink in fear at seeing them. He felt instantly ashamed that he would cause the woman, who looked very overdue, to feel any more pain than she was obviously already in. He tried to look as passive as he could, but the woman still got up as fast as her bulging stomach would allow. She looked suddenly sick. "I-I didn't know…If you will…vous m'excuserez…" she said, giving up her tentative English as she hurried to the inside door. Michael saw another large room beyond as she quickly opened and closed it. He sensed several other individuals, but couldn't make out any details.

Vivienne shook her head as the woman escaped. She motioned Selene and Michael to the window. "It is nap time," she whispered with a slight smile. Curious, Michael and Selene looked through the window. To both their astonishment, the large room contained at least three dozen children, all lying on pallets around what looked like a large children's playroom. The room was dimly lit. The children were of varying ages. Some were infants, while others looked on the verge of adolescence. With sympathy, Michael noticed some of the older ones looked over at them in bored curiosity. He had hated naptime too.

Suddenly, he turned his head to Selene in alarm, sensing her rapidly darkening emotion. Her brows were sharply drawn together as she studied the children coldly, almost calculatingly. Selene was clearly disturbed by what she was seeing, even more so than the parade of adult lycans in the hallway. Vivienne too had turned darkly pensive as she stared through the window. Michael was confused. He could not understand why the two women were upset, until Vivienne began to soberly explain. She must have seen his confusion.

"What you are seeing Michael, would have been the next generation," Vivienne swallowed with difficulty as her eyes darted briefly to Selene. "Of soldiers," she whispered finally. She nodded her head to the inner door. "Beyond, there is one other room like this one…All the lycan children left on this continent." Vivienne voice was pain-filled. She turned to look at Selene, who was stubbornly refusing to stare back. Vivienne closed her eyes briefly, and swallowed. She then followed Selene's gaze back to the room beyond. Michael watched as her eyes picked out each child, and he knew then that the elder vampire adored those lycan children. She spoke in a pained whisper. "Thank God, you killed Viktor, Selene. Thank God you stopped that murderer," she nearly choked.

Michael watched the two women, one dark and one light, while both stared through the glass with heartbreaking expressions. It made his chest tighten to realize what all these people had gone through for so many centuries, all because of one man's hate-filled obsession. He dearly hoped it was all finally ending.

He watched Vivienne quietly exit the vestibule, leaving them alone. She must have sensed what he was detecting too. That Selene was upset would have been an understatement. He didn't even try to think of something consoling to say. It was impossible. He looked at the sleeping children, seeing no difference in them than any other human children. "She must have seen generation after generation go to war," he said quietly. "It never would have ended."

"Yes, it would," she finally spoke quietly as she continued to stare stone-faced through the glass. "We would have found this place, eventually." Selene looked up at him briefly. "And slaughtered them as well," she said almost matter-of-factly.

"Jesus Christ, Selene. They're just children…babies," he whispered.

Her brows drew together as her scowl deepened considerably. She turned to look at him, stared at him ruthlessly. His eyes widened further in horror, but he couldn't bring himself to have her confirm what that look was telling him, that she had killed children before. He shook his head, unable to believe she was capable of such a heinous act. She turned away from him to give the lycan children one last look, and followed Vivienne out into the hallway.

It was several minutes before Michael could follow.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Michael finally caught up to Selene near the infirmary. He rounded a corner and found her leaning casually against one of the giant stone pillars, one boot-clad foot propped against it. Her arms were crossed. She was tapping her long fingers in slow staccato impatience. He looked farther down the hall and saw Jacob and two other Death Dealers talking privately to Vivienne. Selene turned her head to him. She seemed to have gotten her wayward emotions back under control. The initial shock of the den was passing. And now she was brooding in silence, Michael realized with a slight grimace. Michael hated it when she got like this. She could be that way for days, and never once reveal what she was thinking or feeling. Rather than make the futile attempt to pull a full sentence from her, he decided to snoop around his surroundings instead.

Selene was eavesdropping, or trying to. Vivienne was angry about something, but Selene could not make out what they were saying. She recognized the other two Death Dealers, Samantha and Jonah. They had been a very close couple when they were in Viktor's coven. That had not changed, she noticed. They eyed her and Michael with blatant suspicion. When her two former colleagues stared her down, Selene resisted the urge to look away. She would be damned before they saw her distress.

Jacob broke away from the mysterious conversation and walked slowly up to Selene, keeping a wary eye on Michael. Michael, she noticed, had wandered into a laboratory across from the infirmary, and was sniffing around in curiosity. She barely acknowledged Jacob as she continued to monitor Michael and the occasional lycan roaming to and from rooms in the large basement complex. She noticed they gave the vampires a wide berth, and skirted Michael most of all. The fact that they didn't exactly make them feel welcome did not bother Selene in the least, but it seemed to disturb Michael greatly. She realized it was only natural he be curious about that part of himself, the part that was lycan. Jacob finally sighed.

"Spit it out," she said, tired of waiting for him to work up the courage to ask whatever it was he wanted to ask.

"Oh, I was just wondering what you thought of our little set up," Jacob said lightly. That he was smug was obvious. He seemed to take unabashed joy in fooling his former comrade. If the comment was intended to make her angry, it worked.

"I think it's pathetic." She looked at him, cold as ice. "I think the lycans are pathetic. I think trying to rekindle a past that should remain dead and buried most pathetic of all." She looked away with a glower. "I take no pride in being a traitor, Jacob, and it sickens me that you do."

"Traitor to what? To Viktor and that ridiculous covenant? To _never ending_ war?" he scoffed softly. He was silent for a moment as he studied her expressionless face. "Some of us didn't have your excuse, Selene…to commit genocide." Jacob looked at her soberly. "And I just couldn't live with myself anymore." He walked away then, shaking his head. He bowed to Vivienne as he returned to the heated, private discussion.

After a few moments, the three Death Dealers entered the infirmary. Selene knew Kraven was in there, being treated for his hybrid-inflicted wounds. She grimaced as Vivienne approached her. The coven leader did not look happy. "Twelve years since he finally broke his ties, and still it takes little prodding to bring that guilt to the surface," she quietly reproved Selene.

Selene was too angry to feel repentant about needling Jacob. She was tired of everyone feeling smug at her expense.

Then they heard a commotion from the infirmary, what sounded like metal trays banging loudly on the floor.

"Argh! Get away from me, you mangy bitch!" came Kraven's muffled, angry voice. Selene could plainly hear the slap that followed that remark. Her mouth twitched in memory. Kraven had a swift, painful backhand.

Suddenly, Eleanor burst out of the double-doors. Her eyes darted about frantically. They had turned ice blue, almost white. The arresting lycan was furious, and trying not to turn. Selene could see the bright red mark where Kraven had slapped her across the face. Eleanor's lips twitched into a quick snarl, revealing lethal canines. When she finally spotted Vivienne and Selene just a few paces away, she stepped quickly back in alarm and looked down, drawing deep soothing breaths. She straightened and smoothed her jacket. To Selene's surprise, she then looked straight at her. Eleanor was looking at Selene now with vivid violet-blue eyes drawn in abject shame. "I'm sorry," she said softly in a very proper English accent. Her eyes darted in Vivienne's direction, including her mistress in the apology.

Vivienne growled. "Go, my friend. You have more important things to do," she said angrily. As the other woman bowed and began to walk briskly away, Vivienne stopped her. "Oh, and that little technical problem? It will be resolved by this evening's briefing?" she asked.

"It will be resolved within the hour, my Lady," Eleanor replied softly. She smiled and hurried down the hall, headed for the hotel above them.

Just then, Kraven burst out of the infirmary with the three Death Dealers in tow. He was clutching his bandaged neck as though in pain. As he turned down the hall opposite Selene, he suddenly halted, hearing a distinctive hiss. Slowly, he turned his scowling face around to find Selene staring back with blatant fury. Vivienne walked cautiously to the suddenly enraged Death Dealer and growled the woman's name under her breath in warning.

Kraven sneered as he looked Selene up and down.

Suddenly, his faced changed. Selene saw Kraven, and the three Death Dealers surrounding him, suddenly look up in apprehension. She sensed Michael walk quietly up behind her and Vivienne. Kraven took a step back, then scowled further. He looked at Selene with blatant hatred. "From now on, keep your dog on a leash," he growled.

Before Selene could take a step in Kraven's direction, Vivienne clamped hold of her upper arm. Selene shot a furious glare at the woman, but Vivienne's grip was firm. "Not in front of them," Vivienne growled quietly. Her eyes shot to a lycan nervously skirting the angry group of vampires. Selene realized Vivienne didn't want her servants to witness dissention among the vampires. She looked at Kraven, who now had a superior expression on his face, then back at Vivienne. Selene yanked her arm loose from the woman's biting grip and sighed fiercely.

Kraven then smiled at Selene contemptuously, and bowed to Vivienne with seemingly genuine reverence. As he turned around, Selene couldn't resist the taunt. "Watch your back," she barked in warning. Kraven merely balled his hands into fists as he continued down the hall, his Death Dealer escorts in close pursuit.

She kept her eye on Kraven until he disappeared around the far corner. Only then did she turn her head to look at the coven leader's ominous countenance. Selene had never seen the old vampire look quite that angry.

"Michael," Vivienne said lightly as she eyed Selene. "You are hungry, oui?" She glanced at him as he nodded slightly. Michael looked back and forth between the two furious women. Vivienne smiled amicably to him. "Get yourself to the hotel kitchen. The cook will make anything you want," Vivienne said as she turned her eyes, and her scowl, back toward Selene. "Selene and I have a few things to discuss."

Michael wasn't stupid enough to protest.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Selene confronted Vivienne before the office door could close. Stalking to her from behind, she snarled, "How could you harbor Kraven," Selene was in an irrational rage. She stood not a breath away from the other woman, hands balled into tight fists, threatening. "You cannot trust him! He's a traitor! He should be killed immediat…"

"Silence!" Vivienne suddenly hissed, losing patience. Her eyes were inflamed in angry shock at Selene's outburst. Eyes narrowed, Vivienne lowered her voice in warning. "If anyone should be accused of anything, it is I. For whatever traitorous act he committed, he did so under _my command!_" Vivienne managed to remain calm, until she barked those last words through gritted teeth, fangs barred, not backing from Selene an inch.

Selene jerked her head back, stunned by the woman's vehement assertion. Vivienne's intense burst of fury brought Viktor instantly to mind. Selene stepped back, realizing she was standing too close. This was a side of Vivienne's personality she had never witnessed. The senior vampire had never expressed anything beyond reckless frivolity while in Viktor's coven. Despite that, Selene had been much too young to show the ancient vampire anything but the most deferential respect, and certainly had never raised her voice to the older woman as she had just done. Selene chided herself mentally. One did not raise one's voice to a vampire ten times their elder. It was unthinkable. It was rude. Her personal feelings aside, Selene realized she had overstepped her bounds and forgotten her place.

She took a calming breath and lowered her eyes. "I apologize for my outburst," she said much more calmly. After a pause, she looked up at Vivienne with somewhat calmer eyes. "But my feelings remain the same."

Vivienne cocked her head angrily at Selene, as though listening for insincerity. After a moment, she sighed heavily, still scowling deeply at the young female vampire. "I understand your feelings, Selene. He is a most disagreeable vampire," she said staunchly, "but a necessary one nonetheless."

"Necessary?!" Selene growled. At Vivienne's stern glance, Selene stilled her anger. "What could possibly outweigh the risks of having Kraven here?"

Vivienne gritted her teeth in frustration. "Selene, you stubborn girl, there are things you don't understand. Things I am not ready to tell you because you're not ready to hear them."

Selene shook her head. She refused to budge. What the elderly vampire was asking of her was just too much. Never again would she live under the same roof with Kraven. "All I know is that he'll stop at nothing to see Michael and me dead. And that's not something I'm willing to tolerate. I'm sorry." Having seen and heard enough, Selene abruptly turned to leave.

Vivienne let her get as far as the door. "Where will you go? Back to your little house in the mountains?"

That stopped Selene cold. She stood there, facing the door as her mind raced, suddenly panic-filled.

Vivienne continued, bringing her implicit point home. "You don't honestly believe such vast sums of money would escape our notice?" she said not unkindly.

That got Selene's back up. "I didn't steal it, if that's what you're implying," Selene said vehemently, scowling at the older woman.

"I imply no such thing. I know you earned it," she admonished the younger vampire. Vivienne looked at her for a few moments more before turning and walking to her desk. She casually leaned against it, waiting patiently. Selene was trying to figure out when and how Vivienne learned about her hidden wealth.

Then it hit Selene, why Kraven was under Vivienne's protection. Her eyes widened and she whispered, "Kraven had legal control of Ziodex Industries." She stared at Vivienne, as part of the truth was revealed.

"He still has it," Vivienne replied bluntly.

Selene stepped to the other woman. "That's why you need him. He's been funneling money to you. All this time," she spoke quietly.

Vivienne shook her head. "Let's get this clear from the start. _I_ am in control of Ziodex. I have been from its inception," she said darkly, brooking no argument. She stood from the desk and closed the distance to Selene. She gave the young vampire a piercing stare. "You're a smart girl. _Think._ You don't honestly believe him capable of building something so complex? Kraven...He is just a _bureaucrate_." Vivienne fumbled for the right word, "An administrator only."

"But, Amelia…"

"Amelia," Vivienne said dismissively. She shook her head "She was too busy breeding her new coven to pay attention to what was happening here. That was her mistake," she said reproachfully.

Selene's mind whirled with the implications of what she was hearing. She simply stared at the older woman, finding it difficult to believe how completely she had duped everyone. The depth of underhanded scheming went far beyond what she learned in Budapest. What surprised her most was how she felt. Vivienne had committed the height of betrayal, but Selene held no desire for retribution. She had no loyalty to Viktor's coven. She just felt an overwhelming confusion. That alone was enough to make her angry.

The older woman smiled at Selene's discomfiture. Taking pity on her, she decided to change the subject. "Michael…he is a nice boy, Selene, a gentle, kind man. He reminds me very much of Lucian in that regard," she thought reflectively. "He is surprisingly well adjusted, considering he was turned by one so young. I was convinced you could not handle it." Vivienne then looked at nothing, her mind suddenly in a very different place. "Viktor would be…infuriated," she said, smiling in quiet satisfaction.

Despite her chaotic thoughts, Selene couldn't help the twinge of pride that came through at the older woman's statement. That the elder vampire found her turning and mentoring of Michael a success was no small compliment. It was one of the most difficult things a vampire could master, and was rarely attempted even by those centuries older than herself. It had been a secret worry in Selene's mind since she had bitten Michael. That, because of her ignorance, he would succumb to the madness so common with the turning, that he would not be able cope with the changes it wrought. But, Selene acknowledged, in that regard she could not take complete responsibility for his well being. Michael had played no small role in easing his own transformation.

"Michael made it easy for me," she confessed quietly.

Vivienne looked at Selene candidly, eyes calculating. "C'est vrai, it helps when their minds are good to begin with," she said reflectively, now watching Selene with blatant curiosity. Selene turned her eyes away from the woman. She had the disquieting sensation the other vampire was pulling her soul through them, laying it bare. Vivienne suddenly laughed quietly. "You really impressed Ferdinand, that lycan boy you so terrified. He has an unusually dominant personality. I've never seen that child run from anything, including me," she smiled.

Selene could not muster a smile in return. She was smart enough to know this wasn't mere small talk. She was being tested. Selene felt she was constantly being tested. She cleared her throat with difficulty, feeling a mysterious compulsion to ask a question she knew she would regret hearing the answer to. "I saw many more lycan children than adults. Where are their parents?"

Vivienne sighed with sincere sadness. She looked away then, and frowned. "Most died with Lucian." She turned her piercing gaze back to Selene. "You very nearly achieved Viktor's goal you know."

Selene drew her brows together, staring at anything but the coven leader. "How many children are there?" she said quietly.

Vivienne guessed the question inside the question. "Eighty-seven…fifty-four of which are orphaned."

Still not facing Vivienne, Selene looked down, eyes deeply furrowed. Well over half had no parents.

Vivienne quickly intruded into Selene's growing disquiet. "This is their den, Selene. They are not true orphans, for every lycan female is a mother to them, every male a father."

That got to Selene. Suddenly, she felt her anger rise to the surface again. "Forgive me for saying, but why would I give a damn how lycans are raised?" She turned to Vivienne fully, her features now controlled and blank. She sighed. "Look, I don't mean to be rude. But it's very late in the day, and I'm very tired."

"Of course, you've had quite a shock. Return to your room," the older woman said softly. "This evening you will meet the rest of the vampires here, the one's you have not pummeled," she said with a trace of humorous censure.

Selene tried not to look like she was escaping.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Selene closed the guest bedroom door behind her and leaned against it. She shut her eyes tightly, fighting the tormenting thoughts running through her mind. She thought of her home in the Alps, how she wished she were there, with Michael. It was several seconds before she noticed the smell of blood, and then the sound of water running. The last she had seen Michael, he was still fully engrossed below with the lycans. Quietly, she picked up her pistol off the sideboard. She walked cautiously around the bed toward the bathroom. The door was ajar.

Then she heard him curse. It was Michael. Sighing in relief, she put the gun down on the bedside table. With a second's hesitation, she opened the door fully.

Michael jerked up, startled by the door's sudden movement. When he saw it was Selene, he closed his eyes immediately and cursed under his breath again. Selene had the courtesy to cringe, belatedly realizing he didn't hear her coming with the water running.

Shirtless, he was straddling the toilet seat holding a bloodied towel to his face. He'd had another nose bleed. They were a frequent consequence of his transformation. This one seemed particularly nasty. He had streaks of blood on his face and neck. His hopelessly blood-stained shirt lay discarded on the floor. Looking up at him again, she couldn't help but notice the results of his many months of rigorous training. His figure was absolutely flawless. Selene swallowed with difficulty.

She'd never seen anything so alluring in her entire life.

With a start she realized she was staring. Blinking rapidly, she said the first thing that came to mind. "You're bleeding."

Sighing deeply, his eyes rolled to her. _No shit, Selene. _She flinched slightly, getting the message. She watched his frustration as he flipped the towel around to a less bloody spot and brought it back to his nose again. She moved toward the bathroom cabinet. "Here. Let me get you another." Grabbing a towel from the cabinet, she went to the sink to dampen it. She could feel his eyes watching her. _How could he not know what this is doing to me? Go. Leave now, before…_ "You told me your nose bleeds had stopped," she said gruffly.

He grimaced and sighed. "I lied," he said.

As Selene wrung out the cloth, she sent him a look. She moved rapidly to stand in front of him, towel in hand. He went to grab the towel, but she had other intentions. Gently, she reached up and started to wipe the blood from his face.

Michael was so shocked, his hand froze in midair. He didn't move for several seconds. She was touching him. Selene was touching him. He suddenly felt lightheaded, and not from blood loss. When she moved the towel to his neck, the coldness of it snapped him out of his trance. He grimaced and jerked back. Mortification doused him in ice water. _The hybrid was having another nose bleed._

"It's all right. I got it," he grumbled softly. His nose refused to stop bleeding. With a stubborn frown, she gave him one of her looks and continued to clean his face. But he was having none of it. "Selene…" he said, frustrated. Michael was edging away from her ministrations like a reluctant child.

With a frustrated grimace, she straightened up in front of him. "Fine." She roughly handed him the towel and took a step back, still watching him closely. He wouldn't look at her. Selene crossed her arms and snorted softly to herself, guessing exactly why he was acting so uncomfortable. "It's not true, you know. What you're thinking."

Michael kept his face carefully neutral, deliberately unconcerned. He sighed, "What am I thinking?" He pulled back the towel. The blood had nearly stopped. _Finally._ He knew over time his change would become almost effortless and pain free. But for the moment, it just plain sucked.

"When I look at you, yes, I do see the lycan." She lowered her arms to her sides, lowered her aggressive stance, and waited till he had the courage to look her in the eyes. When soft blue-green eyes were raised to hers, she looked openly into them. "But not a monster," she said softly.

Ashamed that she could so easily read his mind, Michael looked back down at the floor. After a long moment, he grimaced a smile. "It's not fair," he said quietly.

"What isn't?"

He paused, about to speak, but then suddenly shook his head. "Nothing." He refused to look at her again.

She raised her eyebrows at that answer and waited patiently for elaboration.

Finally, he sighed, throwing the bloodied towel aside. "I wish…I wish I could tell what you're thinking." He looked at her from under blond locks and smiled in self-derision. He drew his brows together and brought his head back down, wishing he hadn't just said that. He stared patiently at her feet.

"I want you." It was the softest whisper.

He had been rubbing the blood off his forefinger, thinking he would need a shower again, when her whispered words finally hit him. His brain froze solid. With a swallow he almost choked upon, he raised his head to look at her, and caught his breath.

Her mouth was slightly open, like she was out of breath. He could see her chest gently rising and falling as she drew the shallow breaths. Her eyes became languorous and dilated in the span of a few seconds, as she gave in fully to the lust that was coursing through her. She looked like she wanted to devour him. Michael had never seen anything so sexy in his entire, young life.

He stood up slowly, after all this time not quite believing this was finally happening. After a quiet pause, Selene took an uncertain step to him, closing the distance between them. His own arousal began to build, then overflow as he watched her eyes focus obsessively on his lips. They were inches apart. He could feel her breath on him.

Then he felt the slow trickle of blood oozing from his nostril. His suddenly accelerated heartbeat had burst the tentative clot, reopening the wound in his sinus cavity. Michael jerked his head aside and brought up his hand to swipe at the blood that had already reached his lips. "Shit," he cursed under his breath, realizing instantly he probably just ruined the most crucial of moments. Completely disgusted, he brought his hand back to look at the blood smeared across his index finger. That's when he caught Selene's eyes.

They had turned ice blue. She was fixated on the hand he held up between them. He looked at his hand, at his blood. He thought instantly of the subway, of the menstruating girl, and how it so profoundly affected him. He then looked up at her again. Still watching his fingers, she licked opened lips, her fangs. _Bloodlust._ She was in the throes of bloodlust. She really did want to devour him, he realized.

With a painful sigh, he looked down and closed his eyes. _Not like this._ He would not take her like this, not their first time, not _her_ first time. No matter that his body was demanding it, begging that he throw her against the wall and pound into her till he could no longer stand. Neither one of them deserved that. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and slowly blew out his breath, trying desperately to reign in that feral part of himself. If Selene touched him, he feared he would split her in two.

She stepped away instead. Surprised, Michael took the opportunity she gave him. He reached down quickly to grab the discarded towel. As he brought it up to staunch the bleeding, he somehow found the courage to glance at her, and then could not turn away.

She was looking at anything but him. Her brows drew together as she finally found her reflection in the mirror. He watched as she fought for control. For the first time, he saw her willfully beat down all the emotions she kept so well hidden from him. As they both stared at her reflection in the mirror, her eyes slowly turned back to their golden brown, then hardened almost instantly. The vulnerability was replaced with a wall of ice. She turned her head and looked at him. This was the Selene he had lived with for five long months. Her expression was cold, ruthless, and a lie.

He stared back soberly. It was all a pretense, he realized, an outward show to keep him at bay, to keep everyone at bay. What she revealed to him hadn't been simple desire, not just lust. He was reminded vividly of that first night in Budapest, when she had told him of her family. Like that night, there had been pain, a Pandora's Box of it. And to let it out unmistakably terrified her.

She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice sounding strained and cracked.

He said nothing. Now was not the time. He pulled his eyes away from hers to check the towel he still held to his nose. _Goddamn nosebleeds._

Realizing the moment had left them, she sighed. He couldn't tell if it was in relief or regret. When she spoke again, it was in the voice he knew well. "Get cleaned up, Michael." With that she left, softly closing the door behind her.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

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**_To Reviewers:_**

**_Seraphina_****_ Kye_**_ – 61,531, 14 chapters._

**_Jubillie-gurl_**_ – Ack! You asked a simple question with a complex answer. I think bloodlust is quite complicated, and I try to inadvertently explain how it works throughout the story. Michael came under the influence of bloodlust because he'd never smelled human blood before, not as a hybrid. That it was menstruation blood made it worse – that blood is infused with strong pheromones (scent particles) associated with reproduction (i.e. sex). Hence the comment by Selene about vampire reproduction cycles and how she feared what his reaction would be. Because they are huge olfactory triggers, whenever blood and sex are combined, they tend to bring about bloodlust. Also, if a vampire has been without blood for a while, they are much more susceptible to it. Bloodlust is not so different from plain old sexual lust. It can be controlled, or overridden by other emotions, like fear. When Selene was hemorrhaging from enormous blood loss, Michael wasn't exactly in the frame of mind to be taken over by bloodlust, though it was causing the temptation to turn into his hybrid form._

**_Katylar_**_ – I hope this chapter answered your question about the lycan brands. [grin]_

**_Josh Maxwell_**_ – Things move very rapidly from here on out. The story is halfway through after Chapter 7. There is a ton of stuff thrown into a very short period of time – just like the movie. _

**_Hanachan2_**_ – Woohoo! I'm glad you adore eet! Heh. But seriously…My French sucks. I'm keeping it "see spot run" simple for a reason. Thanks for being kind though. _

**_Imraith-Nimphias_**_ – My, my, my...Aren't you the jaded one. [laughs] Excessive unresolved sexual tension? You bet ya! After five months of close-quarters company (in an Alpine chalet no less), I think I've rather down-played it. It's more than justified. And, just as you say, Selene is Victorian. They won't just jump into bed together. The circumstances will have to be exactly right. And – correct me if I'm wrong – but didn't Vivienne bitch about this very problem in the story? Regarding Michael and tearing Selene's clothing…she was bleeding to "death" basically. He panicked and tore it off. In ERs, they typically don't even bother with unzipping or unfastening clothing – they cut the clothes off. Besides, he explains in the next chapter how embarrassed he was at having to rip up her bodice. And as for her reaction…how else would she have handled it? Why cry over spilt milk? She just let him know she wasn't pleased at finding herself in such a state, and he apologized. [shrug] Selene is not the type to go into hysterics about something relatively trivial. Also too, she trusts him completely, so much so that she was shocked at his violent reaction in the subway. That trust is unspoken, but also very obvious. I mean…come on!..Michael could have taken advantage of her – raped her in fact – an infinite number of times back in the mountains. He's not suddenly going to get that yen while she's lying near death's door on the filth-ridden ground of the Paris Catacombs. [wink] And as for resolving that UST (that is your real gripe I think), you'll just have to keep reading…[grin] Tiresome tension aside, I'm glad you find the story entertaining. I hope I don't let you down. _

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	8. Just Desserts

Underworld - The Turning

Written by  
Wendy Dale Smith  
st7ci-at-hotmail.com

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**_To _****_Readers: _**_There is so much information packed into the last half of this story…I could have written a whole separate fic just on the stuff I **didn't** elaborate on. From chapter 7 onward, almost everything has relevance, has meaning. However, not everything is spelled-out or obvious, which – to my mind – adds to the mystery. You might have to stop and read between the lines to find the less obvious answers (though I hope that's not the case). And it helps tremendously to have watched the movie at least a couple times (or read the book), and paid careful attention to what the characters said throughout – because I try not to reiterate the movie dialogue. I feel I'm being redundant enough as it is. So, for those of you who have only seen the movie once, some of the significant details might go right over your head. Just a warning! [grin]_**__**

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**_To Reviewers:_**_ Just a reminder, I've moved the review replies to the end of the chapter.__  
  
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Chapter 8**

They rode the lift down three floors to Vivienne's grand hall. It was a formal gathering, requiring the most elegant attire. Employing skills she had not used in countless decades, Selene felt she managed to bedeck herself to an acceptable degree. If the sideways glances from Michael were any indication, she managed very well indeed.

With her hair up, she felt oddly exposed. She looked over at Michael and caught him staring again. He looked quickly away and straightened his posture, or at least made the attempt to. Selene hid her amusement. Michael somehow managed to look incredibly ill-at-ease, and incredibly handsome, all at the same time. The suit fit snuggly to him, like he had been dipped in the fine cloth. Selene tore her eyes away, realizing he wasn't the only one guilty of staring.

As the lift slowed to a stop, Michael moved impatiently for the door. When it began to open, Selene stepped closely to his side and slid her hand smoothly under his arm. Surprised, he instinctively curled his arm around her fingers. It was obvious he was very nervous. "They're not worth your concern, Michael. I promise you," she said softly. Selene squeezed the crook of his arm gently in encouragement, and was rewarded with a grateful smile.

Vivienne grinned as they entered the large room filled with some two dozen vampires. "Ah, so dark and so fair…Like a love poem come to life."

Selene rolled her eyes. "Let's get this over with."

"So you still hate these gatherings." Vivienne shook her head in disappointment and proceeded to walk around Selene, blatantly inspecting the younger vampire. Her gaze turned impish as she faced Selene again. "But there is one thing you like, I see. One thing has changed."

Selene sighed with boredom. "What?"

Vivienne approached closely and took Michael's other arm. "You like looking pretty for your hybrid." Michael managed to shoot Selene a questioning glance before Vivienne pulled him to the center of the room. Selene was left shaking her head at the beautiful blond vampire. _Irritating old bat._

As with the lycans the day before, Vivienne methodically introduced Michael and Selene to every vampire in her coven. The manner with which she handled the vampires was very different than the way she treated the lycans. She took much less care with her mannerisms and her speech. The vampires treated her no less formally, but there was a sense of familiarity, a lack of distance between her and her own kind. Michael equated it with the way the hospital executives treated their doctors, and how they treated the nurses and support staff. The players were different, but it was a class system just the same. Except this class system had well defined boundaries. _And I'm stuck in no-man's land_, he thought with a mental grimace.

For the tenth time, he heard Selene sigh heavily in boredom. He glanced at her in growing amusement. Selene was blatantly, almost rudely indifferent to the strange vampires. It was a complete shift in the way she acted with the lycans. In fear for her safety, she had paid the lycans keen attention. But she dismissed her own kind entirely. He suspected every vampire in the room could have dropped dead and she would not have raised a brow over it.

For their part, the vampires could barely tolerate him. He tried to do as Selene suggested. He tried not to let it bother him, but his hypersensitive nature made it difficult to drown out the multitude of dark thoughts pointed in his direction. He took immense comfort in the hand Selene kept firmly tucked under his arm.

An hour or so after midnight, dinner was served, or the vampire equivalent of it. Michael tasted the blood Vivienne personally handed to everyone, and couldn't quite hide his grimace. He only craved the nasty stuff when he became anemic. The blood she gave him was served ice cold. As usual, it tasted like slightly sweetened iron-flavored water.

"Don't you like it?" a strangely adolescent-looking woman said. With horror he kept well hidden, he realized the vampire had been turned too early. She looked no older than twelve or thirteen years.

"He must prefer meat, the poor thing. Is raw flesh your favorite?"

"Ice cream, actually," Michael said matter-of-factly, looking down into his glass. "Chocolate ice cream." He looked up at their dumbfounded faces. They were patronizing him. He smiled politely. He thought their dependency on blood just as appalling as the lycan need for fresh, raw meat. In that respect, it was apparent to Michael that they could not comprehend their opinions and veiled insults were wasted on him.

Selene had quite a different reaction. She felt her anger rising, and was fighting to keep it under tight control. "Michael doesn't have our weaknesses in that regard. He can eat like any other male human." Some of vampires were clearly appalled, while others were blatantly envious. Suddenly reaching the end of her patience, Selene scowled angrily. "In fact, Michael can control his more vulgar behaviors better than most vampires I've met." The insult was not lost on the small group of immortals.

Vivienne could not hide the smile that peeked briefly from behind her glass.

"I'm sure your _batard_, your mongrel, is very well trained," a foppish older-looking vampire replied, infuriated. Michael flinched. _That was a mistake_, he thought, noting Selene's instant fury.

Seeing that Selene was about to throttle the hapless male vampire, Vivienne quickly interjected, laying a cold yet firm hand on the other woman's arm. "Enough, Bertrand. No need to be so predictably boorish," she admonished him lightly.

Michael saw that Bertrand was immediately mollified by the reprimand. The middle-aged looking vampire was evidently besotted with his coven leader. Absently, Michael wondered if he appeared that idiotic when he looked at Selene.

Sighing, Michael let his eye wander around the room, looking at all the vampires he'd met. He already expected their intolerance. Selene had warned him about that much. But after having met others of her kind, he finally felt he understood Selene a bit better. They were _all_ arrogant creatures. It put the way she treated him in a very new light. Relatively speaking, he now knew Selene was gentle with him, treated him with far more respect and consideration than she gave everyone else around her. She was hard as a diamond around the other vampires. She didn't care about what they thought. That she dared to treat him with more compassion than she did her own kind made the evening almost bearable for Michael.

Suddenly, there was a small commotion from the entryway. The three former Death Dealers finally made their appearance, and were now all finely dressed as the rest of Vivienne's vampires. Selene's hand gripped Michael's arm almost painfully as Kraven coolly entered the reception hall immediately after the three warriors. His gaze found them almost instantly, but he inexplicably turned away from the couple without comment or expression. Kraven instead made his way to a far corner where three attractive female vampires where sitting and conversing. Selene turned and caught Vivienne watching Kraven with ominous deliberation. Vivienne glanced at Selene with a brief, vacant look before turning back to their group's conversation.

"Wonder what she said to him," Michael asked quietly, also catching the silent exchange. Selene had no idea, but she suspected it must have been significant to keep Kraven's overbearing mouth shut. She narrowed speculating eyes toward the coven leader. Selene was getting that feeling again, that irritating sense that she was missing some crucial piece of information. She had no time to contemplate it as Jacob decided to enter them into conversation, the previous day's quarrel apparently forgotten.

Just when Selene decided she had spent enough time parading about for their entertainment, there came another disruption from the entrance to the hall. Four males stood nervously just outside in the reception area. All of them were dressed similarly in the same uniforms Jacob's novices wore. By the look of distaste suddenly written on the faces of the vampires around her, Selene guessed the scouts were lycan. _So they did use lycans for patrols,_ she thought, her boredom suddenly forgotten. Both Jacob and Vivienne went to investigate, leaving Selene and Michael standing alone amongst the group of vampires.

"Can you hear them?" Selene asked quietly, noting that both Vivienne and Jacob had serious, almost alarmed looks on their faces. Michael shook his head.

"No, but the lycans are frightened about something," he glanced at Selene with worry. "Very frightened." He could smell it easily.

Selene watched as Vivienne glanced in their direction. Jacob shook his head vehemently, only to bow and move back into the main hall a moment later with a resigned look on his face. With a grimace, he made his way over to Michael and Selene. Jacob passed a sideways glance to the other vampires around them and spoke only loudly enough for Selene and Michael to hear. He looked directly at Michael. "Something's happened. Vivienne wants you to come with us."

Michael looked at Selene in surprise, then back at Jacob. _Me,_ he thought in alarm. _What could they possibly want with me?_ Jacob turned back around toward Vivienne and the lycans, obviously expecting Michael to follow. Now curious, Michael fell in step behind the male vampire. After only a second's hesitation, Selene followed as well. She wasn't about to be left behind with a room full of mind-numbing, egocentric leeches.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Selene, Michael, and Jacob followed Vivienne back down to the first level basement, to the much smaller level used exclusively for vampires. The vampire leader walked rapidly to the silver doors at the far end of the long corridor. No one spoke for the tension in the air. Vivienne pushed open the double-doors to the infirmary. It was a clean and sterile hospital in miniature, with three beds isolated by curtains on one side, and an open lab area on the other.

Standing in the middle of the lab area were the four soldiers. By their faint wolfish odor, Selene could now just make out these individuals as lycans. They weren't part of the group she had met the day before. They had a fine layer of limestone dust covering their black boots. They had been on patrol for quite some time, it appeared. Yet she still could not easily smell them. Selene shook her head, amazed once again at the fastidious cleanliness of this pack. Her eyes narrowed in speculation.

Selene realized they did not smell that different from a human dog owner, and she would not have picked up the difference if she had passed any one of them on the street. In fact, they all camouflaged themselves perfectly in the common scents of humans. It was such a simple tactic. It would have hidden them well from the scores of Death Dealers that had hunted them over the decades. _No wonder we never found their den, or their leader,_ Selene thought as she glanced at Vivienne with grudging respect. Here, in their home ground, defensive tactics were paramount. They did not advertise their families, their children, or where they were hidden. The implications of these thoughts would have infuriated Selene greatly just a few months ago. Now they evoked far different emotions. She swallowed them harshly away. She looked over at Michael, and caught him staring at her with obvious concern. She scowled and he quickly looked away.

One of the lycan soldiers was holding a squirming black body bag in his arms. He had a look of desperation Selene found strangely uncharacteristic of the beasts, though she absently admitted she was starting to expect those kinds of surprises from the lycans under Vivienne's care. Hisses and growls came from the bag. The other three lycans looked away from the group of vampires, bowing their heads in the meekest supplication, as though they had done something terrible. Selene saw them move as far away from Michael as much as possible without being obvious. _They were more afraid of him than any vampire_, she noted with grim satisfaction. The lycan carrying the twisting and growling bag lowered his burden to the ground with care. He then stood up quickly, bowing his head even more deeply than the other three. Selene glanced over at Jacob. He was furious.

"This is why you interrupted us? Another lycan stray? Why the hell did you bring it here?!" Jacob barked to the lycan subordinate. "Get it down to the lycan infirmary!"

"But, Sir…Wait…I don't…" The lycan was bowing, desperately needing to get the words out but not wanting to offend his superior. The body within the bag suddenly surged upward like a macabre caterpillar, and then slammed itself back on the hard marble floor.

"Open the bag, please, Serge," Vivienne spoke suddenly with concern. "Before it hurts itself."

The lycan leader, Sergio, stood frozen in awe that Vivienne had spoken to him directly. They all bowed low as the bag continued to squirm at their feet.

"Well! Open it!" barked Jacob.

Sergio jumped and then knelt before the bag. Swallowing in fear, he unzipped it quickly and stood away. Immediately, a sharp rancid stench hit the air. The lycans moved backward coughing and choking, overwhelmed by the strong odor. The vampires reacted with severe repugnance as a small filthy body in rags scrambled out of the bag and dove instantly under a far table.

Jacob skewed up his face, bringing his hand up to cover his nose. "Ugh! The dog smells like raw sewage!" he said, his inadvertent slur causing Michael and Selene both to wince.

"It pissed itself in the bag," Sergio said, acutely apologetic. "I'm sorry, Sir! It was the only way I could get it here safely!"

Shaking his head in anger at the lycans, Jacob then became immediately contrite to Vivienne. "I'm sorry, my Lady. I'll get it out of here…"

Vivienne held up her hand, silencing him. Her eyes were focused on the small body desperately trying to disappear under the table. She slowly approached the wretched creature curled up in a ball in dark shadow. Michael was used to this sort of thing occurring in the Budapest emergency room. So many kids were on the street. So many drugs. He slowly approached on Vivienne's right. His face, along with hers, was filled with concern for the pathetic living thing.

Selene watched silently, brows furrowed. The stray lycan was clearly terrified, its bestial instincts in full control. She was disgusted, but not surprised. Absently, she thought Vivienne would have her hands full taming that animal.

Jacob, concerned for his leader's safety, said hesitantly, "Don't you think I should get Eleanor or…"

"No," Vivienne says quietly, but sharply. She looked at Michael. "Stay back, no matter what." He immediately halted his approach, nodding in understanding to Vivienne. The creature was shaking badly, its matted and filth-ridden hair completely obscuring its face. Michael could just make out one glowing eye through the tangled mass. It was terror-filled.

Selene warily kept one eye on the four lycan scouts. They didn't look at anyone in particular, and never looked the vampires in the eye unless addressed directly. But they were incredibly nervous for some reason, like they wanted nothing better than to flee. They held no concern for the lycan under the table whatsoever. Vivienne suddenly spoke to the small crowd behind her.

"You and your team may leave, Sergio. I do not blame you for this. Thank you for promptly informing me," she said quietly to the lycan scouts as she slowly moved closer to the thing huddled on the floor.

With an obvious sense of relief, the lycans in the room rapidly escaped. Selene looked at Jacob, who was as confused as she was. She looked over at Michael. He was crouched on his haunches behind Vivienne, as totally intent on the animal as the female vampire. Selene watched in growing alarm as Vivienne reached a hand out toward the thing. It was pinned next to the wall and a stainless steel refrigerator. It reared back as far as it could, but it was trapped.

"N'ayez pas peur," she said softly as she held her hand out, palm up. "Do not be afraid. You are safe now."

As Selene expected, with a feral growl, the creature attacked Vivienne. In a flash of movement the thing was on the ancient vampire, but Vivienne was faster. Her movements a blur, she let the creature latch on to her outstretched wrist and pulled it to her chest, turning it around to face away from her. She clutched it too her, filth and all, holding it still with astonishing strength. Just as quickly, she threw out her free hand to the two vampires rushing to defend her.

"Arrêtez!" she said, halting them in their tracks. Her eyes had suddenly turned ice blue.

Selene looked down at the creature Vivienne now clutched to her almost protectively, and had the shock of her life. Its youthful face was now clearly revealed. It had clamped sharp fangs down on Vivienne's wrist with rabid ferocity. It was sucking loudly, desperately, as it stared blindly out, eyes as ice blue as Vivienne's. It was a female vampire, and it was clearly starving for blood.

Selene was frozen in shock, as was the other former Death Dealer. They had never, in their considerable ages, seen a vampire succumb to such a state. It was Michael who reacted when the others could not. He went quickly to the refrigerator and pulled out several bags of plasma. By the time he got to Vivienne with the plastic bags of synthetic blood, the ancient vampire was already panting from the strain. She was quietly shushing the girl, trying to calm the utterly terrified vampire.

With Michael's help, they gently and quickly unclamped the girl from her wrist and gave her one of the bags instead. The filthy little waif barely noticed as she eagerly punctured the bag and began to drink, already showing passivity and calm in Vivienne's arms. The urchin was completely mindless with need. Michael hastily wrapped Vivienne's wrist before she lost more blood. He then went over and, with his face averted, quickly zipped the black body bag closed. Everyone sighed in relief as the air cleared almost immediately.

Watching Michael in silence, Selene now realized why the smell from the body bag was so strong, and why Vivienne so quickly knew what the little creature was. Vampires consumed blood. Because of that, the ammonia they excreted was many times stronger than what a human would typically produce. Shaking her head in confusion and awe, Selene was surprised the girl hadn't passed out in the bag from the poison in her own urine. Michael, seeming to read her thoughts as always, said quietly to Vivienne, "She soaked that bag with pure ammonia. No wonder she wanted out so badly."

Vivienne shook her head. "Serge must have found the girl while scouting the catacombs, and lured her with blood. Being lycan, he could not know we digest it so quickly," she said in quiet humor, her eyes already calmed back into their normal deep brown.

Selene took a deep calming breath as she stared at Vivienne. She was still clutching the girl tightly. Vivienne crouched unceremoniously on the hospital room floor in what Selene knew as a several thousand dollar dress. She shook her head and looked at Jacob. He was just as disturbed as she was, but she doubted for the same reasons. She felt completely out of place. Useless. She suddenly itched to be in a uniform, to feel its comforting familiarity.

Selene watched as Vivienne stood up with the girl in her arms. The older vampire showed her great strength in subtle fashion, for the girl was a fully mature adolescent. Vivienne moved to one of the infirmary beds and gently set her down. The girl was already in the deep sleep of exhaustion. Vivienne then went over to Jacob, her voice quiet now, almost a whisper. But Selene could see she was completely furious. "I want you to take your entire team and search the catacombs. Search every square meter if you have to. We cannot risk more of them being down there." She looked back at the young sleeping vampire. "Dead or alive, find them all," she said darkly.

Jacob nodded, and with an ominous glance in Selene's direction, he left. Selene felt enough foreboding as it was without having seen that look. Her eyes darted to Michael, gauging his mood. He was standing at the end of the bed, looking down at the girl. He was very troubled at what he saw, but understandably so. This girl was newly turned, just as he was. He had more empathy for the wretched thing than Selene could ever muster. She slowly walked over to the bed and looked down at the girl. It was going to take a lot of work to get her cleaned up, but Selene had no doubts the coven leader was well up to the task. Vivienne sighed heavily then. "Michael, would you stay here and see to her. Selene and I will be back shortly."

Selene looked up in surprise, but Vivienne was already walking toward the double-doors. She scowled at woman's back and shook her head in bafflement. She waved at Michael to stay put as she moved to catch up to the frustrating woman.

Selene stalked up next her in the hallway and lightly stopped the elder vampire with her hand. "Hold it. What the hell is going on?" Selene detested her ignorance of the situation, or any situation for that matter. She pointed back to the infirmary. "You were hardly surprised in there." Both women were at an eye level. Selene held her ground as she waited for the woman to decide to answer. Then it hit her. "You've seen this before," she nearly whispered.

Vivienne eased the scowl on her face. She looked back at the younger woman in self-derision. "I had hoped…being so close to Viktor, he would not pick up his vile habits," she said enigmatically. Her face filled with remorse. "Please, forgive me, Selene. Being as old as I am, I sometimes forget I can be wrong. Very wrong," she said darkly.

One question kept going through Selene's mind the moment she realized the stray was a vampire. Who could do such a thing? As Selene stared at the woman, at Vivienne's face as it darkened with a deadly fury, the answer became clear. It was obvious. As Vivienne walked with calm deliberation to the elevator, Selene felt an eager anticipation begin to build.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Kraven sat with a young beautiful vampire, smiling with sweet insincerity.

It never failed to amaze Selene how he could dupe so many people, when she could, without effort, see him for the swine he was. He looked up and saw her approaching. At her sweet smile, he sat up straighter and frowned. His eyes looked behind her, no doubt looking for Michael. But her hybrid was the least of his problems.

Just behind Selene, two dozen lycan servants followed her in. Their heads were bowed in tired and confused submission, clearly wondering why they had been woken so early in the dark hours of the morning. They all began lining the outer wall of the large hall, while their vampire superiors stood in the center of the room, just as confused as their lycan servants. Without taking her eyes off Kraven, Selene saw Vivienne enter the hall from a private side entrance and silently approach the unsuspecting vampire.

Selene smiled at Kraven's sudden wary confusion. "You'd be a great vampire, Kraven, were it not for your weaknesses. I almost feel sorry for you." She then let her face give way to fury. "Almost."

Selene watched in delight as long, feminine fingers latched around Kraven's throat from behind and yanked him bodily across the room. She heard a piercing CRACK! as his neck snapped and vertebra crumbled from the force of the throw alone. He hit the stone fireplace, his back breaking once again as the massive granite frame resisted the blow. He hit the floor and did not move. His eyes were wide open, frozen on the ancient woman who stood where he had been sitting, oblivious, just an instant before.

Vivienne blew a lock of hair out of her face as she straightened back into her perfect, regal posture. Her eyes were electric blue in wrath. Two dozen vampires and two dozen lycans stood in shocked silence around the room. They had never seen their leader in a killing rage. But then, they never dared to break her simple rules either. There was a reason she was the ruler of their coven, and they were about to be reminded of it.

Vivienne stood over him. He was still conscious, but only just enough to understand what she was about to tell him. "You will live, Kraven. I will see to that. I owe you that much. But you have broken our pact with this…animal weakness. I will not ask how many innocents you have bled dry while under my roof, just as I did not ask Viktor." She knelt down and grabbed him by the throat, her fingers digging in so hard, they drew blood. She raised him effortlessly to her eye level. Her elongated fangs were clamped together as she growled her words not an inch from his face. "But I can assure you, you will never do this again, for there is _no one_ here to clean up your mess! And I will not let you, or anyone, jeopardize _my_ home, _my_ coven, _my_ family, ever again!"

With that, she gripped his jaw and pulled it open. She reached in, and with thumb and forefinger, viciously ripped out one fang, and then the other. He hung in the air, mouth agape, with two large holes where his vampire fangs had been. His back broken, for the moment all Kraven could do was watch as all the power he had ever hoped to achieve fell to the marble floor with two, faint pings.

Selene had heard of this punishment, but had never witnessed it first-hand. Kraven would never be allowed to grow his fangs as long as he was under Vivienne's roof. They would grow back eventually, and again, they would be yanked from his skull in ceremonial ritual. It was a symbolic stripping of power. He would have no rank. He would be slave to the lowest vampire. And, worst of all, not even the lycans would be subservient to him. If he tried to leave, he would be hunted down and killed. The only freedom granted was death, if he eventually succumbed to that temptation.

Selene watched as Kraven crumpled to the floor, blood oozing from his mouth. She looked around her, at the wide-eyed shock of the vampires she had only just met. Their horror told Selene volumes about their leader. Vivienne did not rule by fear, as Viktor had. Viktor never believed in symbolic gesture. Kill the transgressor and be done with them. There had been no hope with that Elder. But what Vivienne did here had the effect of making her punishment just that much more momentous. These vampires were not hardened to the pain, yet would be constantly reminded of its possibility.

Break her rules, and end up like Kraven.

Selene watched as every vampire bowed to Vivienne, accepting her punishment. They really had no choice. The elder vampire's eyes finally came to rest upon Selene, and the question there was obvious. _Is this acceptable to you?_ Selene looked at Kraven, and thought of the decades and centuries of torment he was about to suffer. Selene then thought of the hundred years of near isolation she'd been force to endure because of his abuses. Unbidden, Selene thought of Michael, of his innocent gentleness and forgiving nature. He probably would not have bowed, would not have approved.

But Selene did.

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**_To Reviewers:_**

**_Imraith-Nimphias_**_ – You made imperfect sense, but sense nonetheless. [grin] Thank you for the compliments. Keep reading. It gets better._

**_Code name: Anrui Yuy_**_ – Unbelievable control is one of Michael's unique gifts. When he does lose control, it's swift, decisive, and obvious. Regarding the nosebleed…Yes, Michael was deriding himself. He's ashamed that he's suffering this kind of side-effect from his transformations. He didn't want her to know that he still was going through that. In one of the various outtakes I edited out of the story, Selene explains to Michael that nosebleeds are common to lycan adolescents who are just coming of age and adjusting to their transformation. It's why she knows what he's thinking at that moment…he thinks that she despises the lycan in him, sees that part of him as a monster. That scene in chapter 7 is the first time she confesses that she really doesn't mind the lycan in him. That confession is the real significance to that "love scene"._

**_Fan of too many shows_**_ – It's interesting that the nosebleed scene reminded you of the laboratory scene in chapter 2. It wasn't intended…but it is definitely something you do NOT want to forget about again. When Michael thought "Victor was right all along", that was pretty huge._

**_Nickyjay_**_ – Let them kiss? [shrugs innocently] You think I'm controlling things at this point in the story?!? [grin] The characters are the ones dictating when and how they get intimate, not me. Nothing in the story is random or gratuitous really. About halfway through it – once I realized exactly where I had to go - the story just started writing itself. I'm like the spectator recording what I'm watching. I KNOW that sounds ridiculous and creepy, but it's true. _

**_Hana-chan666_**_ – Géniale? Je n'irais pas cela loin, mais merci pour le compliment! And I hope I didn't just say my hovercraft of full of eels._

**_Jubillie-gurl_**_ – Kraven ran to Vivienne's coven to hide from Viktor's vengeful wrath. Kraven was in league with Lucian and Vivienne to bring down Viktor and Amelia. After watching the movie for the tenth time, I realized there was no way Lucian and Kraven could have cooked up this scheme between just the two of them. They needed an arbiter, a go-between that both men could trust – trust enough, in fact, to keep the scheme going for six hundred years (the pact was made 600 years ago). Regarding Selene's farmhouse in the mountains…Vivienne was letting Selene know that she knew about Selene's hideaway, that Selene's house wasn't as hidden as Selene would have liked…Vivienne was letting Selene know that she had nowhere else safe to go._

**_Lady K2_**_ – At the end of the movie, Michael and Selene are not in love yet, but they have established two very essential foundations of love – physical attraction and trust. _

**_Alia-harkonnen_**_ – Hey! Thanks for catching that! Spelling and I just don't get along very well. [grin] There have been some truly hilarious spelling mistakes in the course of writing this story…_

**_Luwana_****_-Fluff-Dragon_**_ – Two chapters a week. That's the deal. [grin]_

**_Agentalana_**_ – Nope, just a plain old mirror. In the Underworld universe, vampires see their reflection. In Underworld, everything has a scientific explanation. Vampires and werewolves are the result of an ancient "super" virus. Check out the movie. You'll see. [grin]_

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	9. In Plain View

Underworld - The Turning

Written by  
Wendy Dale Smith  
st7ci-at-hotmail.com

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**_To Reviewers:_**_ Just a reminder, I've moved the review replies to the end of the chapter.__  
  
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Chapter 9**

Michael rubbed his aching neck as he walked down the hall to the bedroom suite. For almost two hours he had sat vigil over that young female vampire. It was nearly dawn. The odd hours he'd been keeping of late reminded him vividly of his days as a medical intern. With a fierce sigh, he pulled his loosened tie out of his shirt collar and stuffed it in his pants pocket. He had discarded his jacket and unbuttoned his vest over an hour ago.

With a twitch of his nose, his heartbeat quickened. Selene had been in the hallway just recently. It was amazing to him that he knew her smell so well he could pick it out of the tumult of strange scents around him. His eyes held steady on their bedroom door as he approached, and he saw pale gold light through the small slit at the bottom. He knocked softly. "It's Michael," he said quietly, not wanting to startle her. When he failed to hear a response, he opened the door carefully.

With surprise, he saw Selene standing quietly in front of the fireplace. She was still dressed in the finery of the previous evening. Her posture was stiff, with her arms hanging loosely at her sides. Her head was bent to the fire. To Michael, she looked like a flawless, fragile statue. He then took in her mood, and what he felt brought instant worry. She was staring into the flames, lost in very troubled thoughts.

"How is the girl?" she said suddenly in a near whisper.

"Fine. Vivienne came and got her," he replied quietly. He dropped his jacket on the vanity chair and cautiously approached her side.

Still looking into the flames, Selene said nothing in reply.

"Are you all right?" Michael said in growing concern. He watched her with intensity. Her eyes flickered so imperceptibly, only someone paying close attention would have noticed the kaleidoscope of tormented emotions within them. Michael saw, and felt, every single one of them.

"No," she whispered finally. She looked up, and blasted him with those emotions. "No, I'm not."

Michael stood paralyzed as she gazed at him. Suddenly, without warning, she was in his arms, her mouth on his. The kiss was hurried, anxious, and unmistakably hungry. Michael barely had time to react, barely had time to get his hands about her waist to pull her closer, before they heard a knock at the door.

Selene instantly pulled her mouth from his. Both were panting, clutching each other desperately. Seeing the passion, the want, in her eyes made Michael suddenly and fervently wish they were back home in front of their fireplace, where there were no painful revelations, no threatening disruptions. He watched in utter frustration as she pulled her emotions back from him yet again. Gently, she took his hands from about her waist. They could both sense the person standing on the other side of their door, anxiously waiting. "You had better get that," she said as she stepped away.

Michael sighed in complete disgust. If living with other immortals was like this all the time, then they could all go hang. Selene and he needed at least a day before they could manage any more upheaval. He went to the door and yanked it open, fully prepared to tell whoever it was to go away.

To his surprise, it was Eleanor, the tall, elegant-looking woman Vivienne had called the alpha female, the leader of the lycans. She looked at him and into the room just briefly before yanking her eyes down to the floor. She was incredibly anxious, which seemed strangely uncharacteristic to Michael. Though he really didn't know her at all, she exuded the same sense of ageless perception that Vivienne conveyed without effort, and he knew intuitively she must have been as old as her venerated leader.

"Please forgive me, Sir, for disturbing you at this hour…Madam," Eleanor said abruptly as Selene walked cautiously to the door, bringing herself into full view just behind Michael. Eleanor took a step back from the doorway. She was just as wary of Selene as Selene was of her, Michael noted. He glanced back at Selene in annoyance. She looked at him and raised her brow, not sorry in the least of her affect on the lycan. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought she was being possessive. He shook his head impatiently.

Turning back to the meek woman, he said, "Is something wrong?" He hadn't intended it to sound so biting.

She recoiled at his vehement query, but stood her ground. "M-My Lady said to come to you, that you might know what to do," she said and took a deep breath, as though for courage. "We have lost our doctor you see, and…" She looked up at Michael then, beseeching him with her exceptional, violet eyes. "It's Geraldine. She's gone into labor, but the infant," she swallowed down panic, and Michael suddenly realized her fright was not wholly because of him. "Something's wrong with the baby," she said in anguish.

Thinking of the pregnant woman they had met just the day before, Michael glanced back at Selene in alarm, his annoyance at being disturbed forgotten. Selene was now watching the lycan with passive detachment, which was far more encouraging than her usual expression. She looked back at him, noncommittal. Finding no help there, he grimaced at her.

He looked back at Eleanor with uncertainty. "I'm not sure what I can do. I'm not an expert. I've only delivered a couple of babies, and that was…"

"Michael," Selene interrupted impatiently. When he turned to face her, she had that same indifferent look on her face. "Go," she said simply.

With that direct command, Michael sighed in resignation, giving in to the need to help. He pulled off his vest quickly and laid it over his jacket. He looked back at Selene. "It'll take hours," he said in warning, needing to know for certain it was all right to leave her alone.

"I understand," she said impatiently, glancing at the nervous lycan woman.

Michael gave Selene one last look before walking eagerly out the door. Eleanor was instantly relieved that he would help them. "Thank you so much, Sir…Doctor," she said in sincere gratitude.

"Don't thank me yet," he said, humbled that the woman would treat him in such a deferential manner. "And I'm Michael. Just Michael."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Selene woke in the late afternoon to find Michael still gone. With nothing to occupy her time or mind, Selene cleaned her weapons again, and then cleaned his. She took a bath, but even that usually relaxing distraction was tedious. Through the early evening hours she resisted the temptation to go down and see him, knowing her presence amongst the lycans would only create more disruption. She would only be in the way.

Selene shook her head as she stared out the large bay window. Sometime over the last few months, she had become dependent on his company. It was difficult to admit, but she was honest enough with herself to realize she had wanted him to stay with her instead of going to help the lycans. And she knew, if she had protested, he would have stayed. She was also honest enough to acknowledge the shame that came with that admission. She had no right to demand he be at her beck and call. Michael was a doctor. It was his duty to help that woman and her child.

Selene closed her eyes. "What am I doing here?" she whispered. She raised tormented eyes to the luminous Paris night, totally oblivious of its beauty. She suddenly wondered what it was about her that made Viktor stop his rampage. _Why didn't he butcher me as well?_ she thought, her confusing and persistent anguish bringing forth the unwanted question. She swallowed with difficulty. He had thought it a fair trade, the immortal life he had given her. She drew her brows together and turned away from the window.

Restless, Selene wandered out into the hallway, walking aimlessly. Ordinarily, in the mood she was in, she would have been miles away from the farmhouse. Driving always settled her thoughts. The next thing she knew, she was standing in front of Vivienne's private quarters.

She stood at the double-doors, working up the courage to knock, when one of the doors was suddenly flung open. Vivienne stood there, still in her sleep robes, with a scowl that turned to surprise at seeing Selene. Selene glanced briefly into the room and her eyes widened in mortification. Through the antechamber, into the bedroom beyond, she could see quite clearly a figure lying in Vivienne's bed.

Seeing her embarrassment, Vivienne glanced behind her, then turned back immediately with a roll of her eyes. "Selene," she said with a laugh. "Don't be ridiculous. It's just that little stray we found." She then promptly grabbed Selene and pulled her into the chamber.

Vivienne firmly closed the door behind her and walked back into the bedchamber. Selene hesitantly followed. "They have been sending me word every hour about Geraldine. The baby is very close now," she said, worry heavy in her voice. She walked quietly to the far side of the bed and gazed down at the other new member of her coven.

"It took half the day to get her clean," Vivienne shook her head tiredly as she looked down at the sleeping youth. With surprise, Selene saw thick blond locks framing a beautiful face. Seeing her reaction, Vivienne said quietly, "Yes, I was surprised myself…until I remembered who created her." Her face darkened slightly, and Selene realized she was thinking of Kraven's taste for attractive blonds.

Vivienne smiled softly and sat gently on the bed next to the girl. "She is an angel though. After her initial feeding, she hardly woke, even during her bath." Her look saddened. "She does not sleep well. She keeps waking up and shoving the covers off, like she thinks something alive is on her," she said, and sighed heavily. "I can't imagine what company she kept in the catacombs. I only hope the damage is repairable."

Selene remained quiet, not wanting to hurt the elder vampire by revealing her disinterest. As Selene was now aware, adding a new vampire was not a common occurrence in Vivienne's coven. That the woman was reveling in the care of her new charge was obvious. Selene had no doubt the young vampire would be spoiled rotten inside a decade. It was yet another difference between her and Viktor's coven. New vampires there were treated as servants, taking over functions the lycans performed in Vivienne's coven, but with admittedly far less efficiency. Vampires simply weren't suited to servitude.

With a quiet sigh, Selene looked around the bedchamber. It was modestly and tastefully appointed, which surprised her. She shook her head, realizing that Vivienne's shallow and inane behavior while in Viktor's coven had been nothing but a front. Everyone had believed the woman had become apathetic and jaded in her dotage. Selene had fallen for it absolutely. That the woman managed to maintain such a façade over so many centuries was a testament to her resolve. Yet to go to such extremes to bring back the ancient ways between vampire and lycan was baffling to Selene. Why did she do it?

"I noticed few vampires venture anywhere near the lycans, that even here they dislike them…Was it always so?" she said cautiously, hoping the older woman would not be bothered by her prying into history. Viktor had not allowed such talk, so much so that even mentioning it in passing still made Selene uncomfortable.

"Yes, unfortunately," Vivienne said with a grimace. Then she shrugged. "But they accept us well enough. We have a natural collaboration. I think they endure our bigotry because we are so few. I do not allow the random turning of humans, and we simply do not reproduce as frequently or effectively as the lycans."

Thinking of the multitude of lycan children below, Selene raised her brow at that understatement. "So I noticed."

"The shortcoming is ours, Selene, not theirs," she admonished the younger woman. "I would have a dozen children, if I could," she smiled reflectively. "Despite the risks."

Selene wasn't surprised at all by her admission. The woman had a most unnatural mothering instinct for a vampire, which led Selene to ask the obvious. "Did you have any?" she asked without thought.

At the woman's sudden frown, Selene flinched slightly and unconsciously lowered her head in contrition. She had crossed an invisible boundary with that very personal question. She was about to retract it, but held her tongue when she saw Vivienne suddenly look away and smile, as though in fond remembrance. "God and fate saw fit to bless me with one," she said reverently. She then looked up at Selene, her smile merging with grief. "But she died," Vivienne said softly. "A very long time ago."

In an instant, everything became clear to Selene. Why Vivienne so hated Viktor, why she conspired with Lucian and Kraven to bring down the Elder's power. Why she tirelessly protected the lycans. And why she felt no animosity toward Michael. It all fit. It all made sense. Selene stared at the twelve-hundred-year-old woman so intently her unblinking eyes began to water. "You were Viktor's consort," she whispered in utter shock. __

Vivienne looked away from Selene as her face darkened considerably. "A very long time ago," she repeated. She looked down as the girl shifted suddenly in her sleep. Vivienne began to stroke her golden locks, soothing away distraught dreams.

With a wrench, Selene looked away, blinking rapidly. She cast about desperately, wanting to change the subject as quickly as possible. She spotted an original Dutch masterpiece hanging on the wall, and walked to it. After several moments, she shook her head. "Only you could be so reckless…to place an entire coven in the center of Paris." The words sounded harsh, but her tone had softened considerably. She closed her eyes tightly, willing her uneasiness to abate.

Vivienne continued to stroke the girl's hair as she answered Selene's outburst. She shrugged. "Peut-être. It's seems to have worked so far," she said quietly.

"Well, it can't last. You'll be caught. You really shou…"

"We've been here six centuries," she interrupted, still looking down at the sleeping young woman. The girl suddenly bared tiny fangs in her sleep, only to resume her angelic appearance a second later. After a moment, Vivienne glanced up at Selene, who was now staring at her in shock yet again. "We have no intention of leaving now."

Selene merely gaped at the woman, openly skeptical. Six centuries? _That's impossible._

Seeing her incredulity, Vivienne asked the question, "If you wanted to conceal something, where would you hide it?"

The answer came without thought, making Selene roll her eyes. She was familiar with the old adage. "In plain view."

The much older, much wiser vampire looked frankly at Selene, measuring her next words. "Sometimes, the most significant truths are hidden in plain view. It's doubly so for those truths that terrify us." Vivienne sighed and stood carefully from the bed. She slowly moved toward Selene as she gazed at the priceless Dutch painting. The work of art was an innocently serene still life of a provincial kitchen table, until one notices a human skull sitting plainly amongst the lavish bounty. "Humans see us only as the horrible myths they created, because the truth is more frightening," Vivienne said soberly. Her gaze then fixed on Selene, who had suddenly realized they weren't talking about humans at all. "The truth that they are _no_ better."

Something splintered inside Selene as she absorbed what those words truly meant, what the woman was unmistakably accusing with her eyes alone. She stared at the elder as a scorching heat unbidden and unwelcome crept through her, painfully constricting her heart. As panic began to build, she swallowed down nausea. She had to leave. She took a step back, then another. "I have to go. I have to go back," she said quietly, as if herself.

Vivienne's mood instantly shifted as she looked at the younger woman in alarm. "Selene, don't even think it." As Vivienne moved toward her, Selene was already turning for the door. "You can't go back, girl. All you'll find is death!"

Vivienne's words barely reached Selene as she hurriedly fled the elder vampire's bedchamber.

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**_To Reviewers:_**

**_Imraith-Nimphias_**_ – The vampire stray scene seems a bit "forced"? Could you elaborate? I'm not sure what you mean. Honest! Some of the dialogue is unnatural? Which dialogue? [scratches head in confusion] I will try and refrain from using the word vampire. From now on, I will sprinkle in the term bat-like-individual or person-with-pointy-teeth. [grin] Oh that's much better, yeah._

**_Josh Maxwell_**_ – Menstruating?__ You mean…have Selene on her period? [snicker] Josh, there are some really tasty non-alcoholic beverages out there. Do try some. [grin] While bloodlust is an integral part of this story, I do not go into detail about vampire reproductive cycles. That is, perhaps, best left to another story. And I've never seen Blade all the way through. I keep fixating on that one opening scene in the rave (what a hoedown that was!)…though I'm sure my husband knows exactly what you're talking about. He adores that movie. I'll have to ask him about that scene._

**_Katylar_**_ – Good Lord…that's quite a review! I shall attempt to keep my novel-sized reply to a minimum. [grin] Another Blade comment…now I really have to see this scene you are referring to. Pulling out Kraven's teeth is symbolic here only…sort of like emasculating him in grand vampire fashion. De-fanging a vampire was the nastiest punishment that I could think of besides execution…and Vivienne isn't the type to just "kill the transgressor and be done with them". That's Viktor's gig, not hers. _

_Regarding Michael and bloodlust – see a review reply I posted in the previous chapter. _

_The new vampire girl will be in the story a bit more, yes. As to why Jacob (Vivienne actually) wanted Michael to go with him to the clinic…well, you answered your own question…Michael is a doctor, and would not be nearly as shocked at what she suspected the patrol soldiers had in their bag. Vivienne needed someone there who could act fast in a medical crisis…who better than Michael? _

_The word "batard" is French. It has quite a few nasty meanings…half-breed, bastard, misbegotten, baseborn, mongrel, mutt, impure, inferior, deformed, cur…I could go on, but you get the point I think. [grin] _

_Vivienne is a bit long in the tooth, yes. Ahem…sorry, couldn't help myself there. [grin] _

_Most of the immortals know at least French, English, and one of the Slavic vernaculars (Hungarian, Czech, Bulgarian, Croatian, etc., but never ever Romanian - a Latin language never ever considered a Slavic tongue [grin at trivnbugs]). They are encouraged to speak English because – like it or not – that is the universal language of the times…just as French was the "universal" language of previous centuries, and Latin before it. Vivienne encourages her "staff" to speak English, to learn it thoroughly. But Vivienne is also very VERY French. [grin] She knows several languages, but can't quite break the habit of mumbling in French. When I read her dialogue now, I can SO clearly hear her French accent. It's hilarious. _

**_Nicky_**_ – Who would be interested – besides you, of course – in my Underworld soundtrack suggestions? I mean…CRABLOUSE for God's sake! Heh…okay, so that song in perfect for Kraven…but still…_

**_Brettley_**_ – There are 14 chapters in all._

**_Jubillie-gurl_**_ – Okay…deep breath…Kraven had his power stripped because he was feeding off humans and dumping their bodies in the catacombs. That girl in the body bag was one of Kraven's victims – one who managed to survive his bite to become a vampire herself. It's a terrible crime in the Underworld in general, but particularly so in Vivienne's coven. Vivienne shows Kraven great mercy by letting him live in the first place. _

_The vampires think the girl is a lycan at first because it's not uncommon for lycan strays (like stray dogs) to find their way to Paris, to Vivienne's lycan den. Lycans not under the guidance and protection of Vivienne's den are at the mercy of the full moon. They don't have the drugs to curb their transformation. They cannot control themselves when they turn into their bestial form, and often bite humans. As you know, when a lycan bites a human, that human becomes a lycan. In other words, it is understandably much more common to come across a lost lycan than a lost vampire. Vampires rarely ever lose control and bite humans. They are not at the mercy of their urges quite like the lycans are. The vampires – Selene and Jacob – were utterly shocked at seeing a stray vampire. It rarely ever happens. But Vivienne, being as old as she is, has seen vampire strays before, and knew the signs of one. _

**_Agentalana_**_ – [grumbles defensively] …well then why'd you lecture me about vampires seeing their reflection…and stuff…_

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	10. Death of a Dealer

Underworld - The Turning

Written by  
Wendy Dale Smith  
st7ci-at-hotmail.com

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**_TO READERS: RATED-R FOR SEXUAL CONTENT._**

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Chapter 10**

Michael moved quickly about the bathroom. He had returned from the infirmary a full sixteen hours later, nearly dead on his feet, only to find Selene had already left their room for parts unknown. It had been one hell of a day. Delivering that lycan child into the world required every ounce of training he possessed. He felt a sense of satisfaction that mother and child had both survived. From the way the entire den had treated him afterwards, he knew he made large strides today toward winning their approval. At least they seemed much less afraid of him.

He smoothed over the sweater he just pulled on, hearing Selene now moving about the bedchamber. She had returned sometime during his shower. As tired as he was, he was still more excited about the successful delivery, and was anxious to share what had happened with her. Pulling damp hair out of his face, he opened the bathroom door, and stopped short when he saw Selene.

She was buckling on her black boots, fully clad as a Death Dealer. The last time he'd seen her, she had been in a ball gown. Looking at the table, he saw her favorite weapons lying neatly, side by side. Next to them was a stack of ammunition and several empty magazines. Michael felt his stomach clench.

"What are you doing?" He tried to sound calm.

"I'm going back. You can have the farmhouse, if you'd like. You know all my accounts. You may have them as well." She barely spared him a glance as she hurriedly moved about the room.

"Back… What do you mean?" Michael's heart started pounding.

"I'm going back to Hungary, to the mansion. I don't belong here." At his dumbfounded silence, she looked up at his innocent face. Her eyes were haunted. "And I certainly don't belong with you," she scoffed quietly, almost to herself.

That got him shaking his head. His heart was constricting in panic. "Selene…" Michael took a breath. The growing suspicion of her anguish was becoming frighteningly realized. Remaining calm, he tried reason. "You can't go back to the castle. They'll kill you."

"Probably." It was matter-of-fact, her voice, her demeanor. But he'd spent nearly every waking moment in her presence since she turned him into what he was. The countless instances of her pain over the last few days had not been nearly the surprise he would have expected them to be. Somewhere down the line, he had figured her out. He knew her, he realized with a start…as intimately as he knew himself. He knew she was finally breaking inside.

He walked slowly up to her as she stood next to the dresser table. He went to touch her, but she jerked her head toward him, eyes blazing. "Don't," she said.

Swallowing, he dropped his hand, but did not move away. He could not comprehend the pain she was going through. He wouldn't insult her by trying. But he wasn't going to stand by and let her commit suicide. And it _was_ suicide, what she was thinking of doing. As surely as if she put the gun to her head. As with anything that tried to harm Selene, her actions infuriated him. "You won't find absolution by killing yourself." His anger was evident.

Ignoring him, she de-cocked her P99, ejected the magazine and slammed the slide twice for good measure. She began to refill half a dozen magazines with the 9mm ammunition.

"You want me to think you're a killer. Fine. Just don't go there to prove it to me. You won't make it through the front gate!" The desperation in his voice was making it difficult for Selene to disregard him.

"I told you this is who I am, my place." She refused to look at him.

"Bullshit! You're not going back there because it's your _place_," he growled.

"What are you talking ab..."

"It's guilt! You're trying to make up for Viktor! What he did to you was not your fault, Selene! You know that!" he pleaded.

She slammed the gun down on the table. "Enough!" The look she gave him was deadly. "Understand this, Michael. Regardless of what he did to my family, Viktor didn't kill those lycans. _I_ did!" She spat with venom, but it wasn't directed at Michael. "And not just dozens of them…or even hundreds…but _thousands_." Her walls cracked at that statement. She gritted her teeth, fangs standing out clearly, as she fought with all her strength to keep her heart from breaking away completely. What she once said with pride now stuck in her throat like bile. "Scores of families to my one. _Slaughtered._" she whispered fiercely.

In her mind's eyes, the image of murdering entire dens came rushing back like tormenting ghosts. She had never viewed their dens as families. It was easier that way. Easier to commit genocide. When she realized Viktor's betrayal, she had tried to bury its implications. She thought she had succeeded. But what she witnessed under Vivienne's shelter could not be refuted or denied. The truth was even more unbearable than Viktor's betrayal. She had slaughtered innocents. She was no better. Tears came unbidden, and she let them fall.

Hiding his shock at her confession, Michael's heart twisted painfully. Though he knew this moment would come, he could not stand to see her this way, was not prepared for it. The self-condemnation in her voice sounded like a death knell. For her sake, Michael tried not to give into the anguish of her pain. "Your death won't bring them back."

Turning away from his earnest face, she continued to check her weapons. Her lashes where wet. She swiped at them impatiently. _Of all the times to lose control_, she thought furiously. _Why did I have to see them? Why did I have to see those lycans, now of all times?_ Her face skewed up in pain at the thought. Tears flowed freely. She was trying to load a magazine into her handgun, but she shook so badly she could hardly manage the simple task.

Michael snapped.

With lightening speed, he snatched the gun from her hands and flung it behind him. He seized her by the upper arms and shoved her roughly back was against the wall, trapping her there. He looked directly into her eyes, and ordered her. "You are _NOT_ going."

"You cannot stop me, Michael. You have no right!"

"I have every right," he growled. "I won't let you do this. I _can't_."

"Why?" she pleaded.

"Because I love you!" he whispered, the terror he felt letting slip the one thing he never dared admit to her. His brows furrowed in pain. Michael let her go abruptly, turning from the sudden incredulity he saw in her eyes. He could not take it if she dismissed his feelings again.

She shrank against the wall, staring at him in disbelief. "_How _can you love…_me_?" she whispered, her self-loathing pouring from the words.

He looked back at her in surprise, not at all expecting that response to his declaration. It gave him pause.

He didn't reply immediately, knowing intuitively that his answer to that question meant everything. As he looked into her pain-stricken face, he thought about what she had just said to him, about the lycans she had slain. He thought about the lycans they had seen under Vivienne's gentle care. He saw the way Selene clamped down on her torment in their company, how she visibly flinched as all the prejudices she ever harbored against them were decimated one by one. And although those lycans had sensed her distress as well as he, only Michael knew the real depth of her suffering. He saw it in her eyes, sensed it from her as she moved to stand more closely to him, unconsciously seeking protection from the torment. Her actions had been a revelation to him, for Selene had never before given him any indication that she needed shelter from anything. As soon as she was out of their presence, she immediately took back control of those wayward emotions. She hid them so well in fact, that he doubted the veracity of what his own five senses were telling him. That she was in agony.

Michael then thought over the months they spent together, how she had taken care of him, watched over him, and put up with him…a lycan, a hybrid, an abomination, the embodiment of all she had been taught was evil. Her compassion for his plight, and her need to do right by him, was unshakable. And over the months, as he had been adjusting to his change, she had been adjusting to hers. With the clarity of truth, Michael realized what he felt for Selene when they first met, when she was a Death Dealer, failed to compare with the love he was feeling for the person she had become.

"I know you," he replied simply. "You're not a killer, Selene. You're not that person anymore. I'm not the only one who's changed." He felt anger that the person she was now had to pay the price for those past deeds. He looked into her eyes. What he saw there made his heart catch and beat faster. He'd never seen her so vulnerable. For once he could look into those beautiful amber spheres and read her mind as clearly as if she had spoken the words aloud.

_Show me. Show me what to do. I'm lost._

And it shattered him.

Michael moved slowly toward her and bent down on his knees. He began to remove her boots, first one, and then the other. She watched silently, letting him. He stood up and pulled her gently from the wall. He walked around her and removed her overcoat, and then her heavy corset. His actions were slow and deliberate. She said not a word as he moved back around to face her. Without ceremony, he undid the collar, the wrist guards, and the ankles. He kept nearly constant eye contact with her, needing to know that she trusted him, that she wasn't afraid. Careful not to damage her skin, he slowly brought the main zipper down the length of her torso. He moved behind her and, gripping the collar, slowly peeled the rest of her clothing away.

He stood behind her and quickly removed his own clothing. She stood before him, achingly beautiful and unmoving, trusting him completely. Michael walked up behind Selene and gently enclosed her in his embrace.

Selene gasped as strong, warm arms enveloped her, instantly amazed at the heat of his skin along the length of her. Closing her eyes with a sharp intake of breath, she clutched his arms tightly as her head fell back. Michael brought his mouth to the curve of her exposed neck, deeply breathing in her scent. That wondrous sensation was enough to bring her out of her passivity.

Bending her face to his, Selene sought and found his mouth as she slowly turned in his arms. She felt more than heard his deep rumbling growl as she brought her chest in contact with his. The sensation was breathtaking. Michael brought a hand up to the side of her face. Burying his fingers in her hair, he slanted his mouth across hers passionately, willing her to understand what he wanted. When she opened and let him enter, she reveled in the taste of him, eagerly matching his movements. Her mind darted from one contact point to the next, astonished at each unique feeling, and amazed that he could wait so long to show her something so wonderful.

Her hands slowly moved around his upper body, exploring him, learning him. Her fingers moved down to feel his ribcage and sides, and Michael jumped. Selene smiled slightly as she kissed him, realizing her hybrid was quite ticklish. Suddenly, his warm hand shot down and cupped her backside, grinding her into to his very obvious erection. Shock exploded from between her legs to her brain, and back again. She broke contact with his mouth and looked at him. He was watching her knowingly, a small smile in his languid gaze. Realizing two should play at this game, she ground her hips into him even harder, knowing instinctively what brought more pleasure. With a quick growl, he broke contact completely, much to her consternation.

Wrapping an arm about her, he lifted her tenderly, and carried her to the immense bed. He captured her gaze with unabashed adoration as his declaration repeated in her mind. Cradling her upper body, he slowly lowered Selene to the soft down, and began to worship her.

With his gentle mouth never once ceasing its journey, Selene came alive under Michael's touch. The pleasure was excruciating to her cold-blooded immortal body. She couldn't focus, only feel. With the lightest touch, he drew his fingers up and down the softness of her arms and side as she gripped the sheets above her. All the while his mouth nipped and licked, tasted and savored, every inch he could reach. The tip of his tongue suddenly on her nipple wrenched a gasp from her, made a shock of electricity ignite the primordial instinct to open her body to him. His teeth gently upon her suddenly sensitive breasts had her gripping him fiercely to her, thrusting her hips, seeking.

She was acutely conscious of his lower body writhing slowly on the bed next to her, his body shouting his innate need to join hers despite his achingly slow exploration. She could smell it, his sex, mingling with her own. Yet he wouldn't give into his body's desire, never once letting her know just how aroused he had become. Selene would have none of that. She wanted to know, wanted to see and feel all of him.

When Michael finally brought his fingers to her apex, she gripped his upper arm so tightly she drew blood. She kissed him with a passion that had him growling with feral need. Instinctively, she knew she was close. She was ready. She pulsed with more than a century of unfulfilled emptiness, and she wasn't willing to wait for him to decide when he could enter her safely. She didn't need or want the perfect first time. She just wanted him.

When she pushed him over to wrap her legs about him, her eyes were electric blue with the purest lust. She looked down on his adoring face, her fangs elongated and bared. She reveled in the solid length of him against her, thrusting her hips against him, completely saturated and agonizingly sensitive. Selene closed her eyes. She was so close.

With a sudden growl at her teasing, he pushed her backward and brought himself up with her. The movement placed her hips higher, putting her naturally into the proper position. He gripped her hips tightly as she straddled him, and he slowly guided her down, joining them together completely.

Michael was in agony. He focused entirely on her pleasure just so he would not lose control. If she had made any sudden movements, he would have. He gripped her hips almost cruelly, keeping her still against his painfully quivering body. He watched as her eyes close tightly, whether from pain, or pleasure, or both, he wasn't quite sure. _She's so tight._ He growled low again, not moving, trying not to take so much pleasure in the way she gripped him so severely. She could not have been comfortable. He had to fight down the urge to rapidly thrust her hips the three or four times it took for his completion. She opened her eyes to look at him, her ice blue eyes languid. Her mouth opened slowly, revealing alabaster fangs as she stared straight into him, panting. Transfixed, he watched her tongue slip out to run along her teeth. She drew her own blood as she gasped and jerked once involuntarily. Suddenly, he felt it stirring.

Michael's eyes widened in shock, his mind stunned._ Holy shit. _She was suddenly clinching around him violently, deep in the throws of an orgasm. She began to shake with it. She opened her mouth wider and bent to nudge his cheek softly with her own. Lowering her head further, she began to instinctively thrust her hips as she viciously clamped down on his neck, biting deeply, instantly drawing his blood.

Michael barked out a gasp as his control abandoned him. He dug his fingers into her skin brutally, jerking involuntarily as his own orgasm took over. He bent his head down, smelling his own blood, smelling hers through the thin soft veneer of her porcelain neck. Eyes blackening, he opened his mouth. With a will he did not know he possessed, he clamped his burgeoning fangs together till he thought they would crack. He instead rested his brow in the place where her jugular pulsed the cruelest temptation he would ever endure.

He would not, could not, bite her. He loved her too much to do that.

She stopped sucking his blood as soon as she regained some semblance of awareness. The powerful spasms slowly subsided as Selene road the wave downward, knowing she would die if lasted much longer. Michael was gripping her hips tightly still, almost crushing her as he contracted violently with each lingering spasm from her. She smiled into his neck, reveling in the sensation, and wrapped her arms tenderly around him. Now she understood why sexual lust and blood lust were so integral to immortals. There was absolutely no pleasure that could compare to it.

Slowly, he fell backward against the bed, bringing Selene with him. She finally got a good look at his face. She almost gasped. His eyes, half closed, were solid black. His mouth was opened as he panted, revealing his full hybrid fangs. Otherwise, he was still human. He had not changed fully. She was surprised at the regret she felt. Instantly, she knew why, and reached to touch her unmarked neck. He did not bite her. For some reason, he held back, would not share himself completely. Looking at the blood smeared on his neck, at the neat punctures she created, Selene winced. She looked up into his eyes and caught him watching her, and thought of the implication if he had bitten her. She would become a hybrid as well.

Michael did not want her to change, she realized. He wanted her to remain a vampire. Slowly, her face began to fall. She could not control the hurt that unexpectedly coursed through her. Selene knew at that moment something fundamental had vanished within her. She no longer had the reason, or the will, to be what she was. _How well you do know me, _she thought in awe._ Better than I know myself._ Selene realized she hated what she was, had come to despise her own kind. She _wanted_ him to make her a hybrid, if only to escape the revulsion that was suddenly crushing her. Ashamed of the blood that covered her mouth, she lowered her head, trying to hide it from Michael. He was watching her so very intently as his eyes faded back to their beautiful jade. She awkwardly rolled away, breaking their bond. She sat up and away from him to hurriedly wipe the blood from her face.

If Michael hadn't been so completely spent and exhausted, he would have wept in frustration at his own predicament. He now knew, without doubt, she had been a virgin. It was not in Selene's nature to be so passive, so hesitant. But she had been, heartbreakingly so. _Well, until the end,_ he amended as he tried to touch his still oozing neck. She bit the hell out of him in her orgasm. It felt completely natural that she marked him. The shock of it caused him to give into his own completion. He couldn't recall ever feeling such intense pleasure before.

But now he panted with the effort it took just to remain awake. He turned his head to stare at her. She was stiff, hurt. He wanted to pull her back into his arms, but he didn't have the strength. _Goddamn it! _His mind panicked. And he knew why he was so weakened. He was _supposed _to bite her back. He knew that now. It was instinct. Cringing with shame, he realized she wasn't the only virgin here.

He didn't bite her. He had resisted, somehow. And now he was drained beyond mere satiation. She must have drunk at least a quart from him. Coupled with the blood loss he had suffered just a day earlier, he was physically devastated. From the humiliation she was failing to hide, he figured Selene knew it too. Suddenly, he could see the dark halo forming around his vision. _Fuck! I'm going to faint. _

"Selene…I'm sorry." he whispered, unable to say more. He closed his eyes. The first time was difficult enough. How was he going to make up for this? He couldn't tell her the truth. That he must never bite her.

Then Michael lost all thought.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- 

  


Hours later, Michael awoke, alone.

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	11. The Mortal Past

Underworld - The Turning

Written by  
Wendy Dale Smith  
st7ci-at-hotmail.com

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**_To Reviewers:_**_ Just a reminder, I've moved the review replies to the end of the chapter.__  
  
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Chapter 11 **

Vivienne quietly entered the bedchamber and stepped to the bed. She stood silently over Michael, patiently watching, and waiting. He ignored her, at first.

Dawn had come and gone hours ago. He knew Selene had left his side not long after he had lost consciousness. When he awoke, his finely tuned senses had reached out for her, but the remnants of her presence had already begun to fade from the room. She had left him anyway, despite all his efforts. Michael lay there, clutching the sheets to him, staring at nothing, unable to think through the pain. It had frozen him solid.

"I'm sorry, Michael," Vivienne said softly. She watched in abject pity as silent tears fell from his unblinking eyes onto the bloodstained sheets.

"How could you let her go?" he whispered.

Vivienne sighed heavily then. "I had no right to make her stay." She sat carefully next to him on the bed. Her nearness, so different from Selene's, brought him out of his petrified misery enough to become aware of his surroundings. He looked over at Vivienne and noticed she had a soft, loving smile on her face. She was looking down at something in her hand. Curious, he followed her gaze. As her thumb gently swept over the object, he finally saw that it was Lucian's pendant. He slowly sat up.

Noting his surprised confusion, Vivienne smiled at him. "Selene thought I should have it," she said quietly. "It was my daughter's. My gift to her…when she came of age." Through her smile an ancient pain flickered briefly across her face.

Michael's incomprehension turned to heartfelt compassion as the truth fell into place. Suddenly, everything the woman had done, every action, made perfect sense. He looked down at the pendent in wonder. He hadn't even known Selene had been carrying it with her. The thought brought his devastating pain back in full force. Michael finally asked the question he had wanted to ask since Vivienne caught him in his hybrid state, choking the life out of Kraven. "You know about it. About me. You've seen it before," he accused her softly.

Vivienne sighed and fisted the pendent protectively. She looked at him with primeval insight. "The Elders, in their wisdom," she said with great sarcasm, "deemed the combination and its consequence horrific enough to separate the species, to create a hollowed covenant." Her hatred of their decision was apparent. She shook her head as if to clear the negative thoughts. "But it is, in truth, a simple knowledge. A candle twice as bright burns twice as fast," she said, and smiled at him. "And you burn very bright indeed Michael Corvin." Her gaze then turned pensive. "Yet she does not know what will happen to you…and to her if you bite her."

Michael shook his head slowly. "I couldn't tell her. I didn't want her to know her sacrifice was wasted on me."

"Enfants impétueux," she whispered to herself as she gazed at him. She sighed heavily. "Don't you think, perhaps, it is her right to decide if being with you is a waste?" she said softly. "I have known her far longer than you. You do not know what she was like year after year, living on nothing but killing and hatred. There was no redeeming her."

"Selene's not like that anymore," Michael said with angry fervor.

"Running back to her death tells me that," she said impatiently. She sighed. "She went with the hope of protecting you from their vengeance. She is confused, afraid…and in love," she said gently. "Love is _terrifying_ to one who's been without it for so long."

The uncertainty and hope must have been etched on his face, for the elder looked at him in abrupt understanding. Michael sat up slowly, the hope, for the moment, winning over the doubt. "Do you think…?" He swallowed hard. "Do you think that…?" Frustrated, he couldn't even think the painful words, much less say them.

Vivienne took a guess at his thoughts. "She is alive yet. She would get as far as Vienna perhaps before taking shelter from the sun." Seeing he was about to ask the obvious question, she raised her hand. "I will help you on one condition." When she had his suddenly restive attention, she spoke with a tone that brooked no debate or compromise. "No matter what you learn, what you hear about me, you will protect my home, this coven, with your life."

"Me? Why…?" he thought, instantly disbelieving. _What could he possibly do?_

"Because you are the only one strong enough to do it. The people here need a gentle hand, not the harsh tactics of some patronizing, self-indulgent vampire. The time will come when they will need you, above all others." Seeing that he was about to question her, she shook her regal head. "No more questions. That is my condition."

Still confused, still full of so many questions, he nonetheless nodded his head. "Alright." He would gladly lop off his arm for the woman if it would help him save Selene.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

After Vivienne had made him clean up and eat, she finally led him down to the coven's main garage. She had insisted he wear the Death Dealer uniform she had made for him, explaining simply "Its lining is bullet-proof. You would be foolish not to." Considering the desperate, reckless stunt he was about to attempt, he didn't argue. She did not demand he wear the large overcoat, so his movements were at least reasonably unrestricted.

She introduced him to her chief mechanic, a surprisingly geriatric looking lycan named Gilliam. Also surprising, the man seemed completely unafraid of Michael. He even smiled in greeting. However, he showed Vivienne the same reverence that every other immortal gave her under her supervision.

"Gilliam has been informed of your requirements. He will see that you have everything you need," she said. She looked up at him reflectively for a moment. He knew she was putting her goodbye in order.

"Michael, this time tomorrow, you will put this uncertainty behind you. It is a false pride that keeps you from happiness. And time is too precious to be wasted on such foolishness," she admonished him sadly. Michael wondered at the sadness he saw, and knew she was speaking from experience. "You will tell that to Selene for me, oui?"

Michael simply nodded. As she smiled and turned to walk away, Michael had the overwhelming feeling he would never see her again.

"Vivienne?" he said quietly. When she stopped and look back, he said the only thing he could. "Thank you. I will keep my promise."

"I know," she said. Vivienne smiled brightly then and flashed her fangs at him without shame. She abruptly turned and left.

Michael took a deep breath, sensing he was at turning point. He looked at the old lycan standing patiently next to the huge metal garage doors. "She said me you might have something for me to drive?" Michael asked quietly, his mind already focused on his destination.

"Oh yes, Sir. I think we can accommodate you," the lycan said, chuckling. Michael watched in slight confusion as the man pulled out a large key from around his neck and unlocked a massive padlock securing the garage doors. These were doors facing the inside of the establishment. _Why would they lock those, too?_ Michael wondered.

Gilliam pulled the chain that raised the heavy steel garage door. As the door opened, Michael was taken aback. The garage was huge. But what so astounded him was the number, variety, and quality of vehicles parked inside. As Gilliam switched on the bright fluorescent overhead lights, Michael wandered into the space, slightly overwhelmed at his choices. He saw standard delivery trucks, several SUVs, and a range of classic sports cars. Some of the older luxury cars he knew were priceless, one-of-a-kinds. Everything was maintained to perfection, completely spotless. He shook his head, once again astounded by the sheer opulence the vampires displayed almost without thought.

"What about that one?" he said, suddenly pointing to one of several motorcycles that immediately caught his eye.

"The bikes? You know how to ride them?" the lycan said, sounding skeptical.

Michael spent a considerable amount of his teenage years riding dirt bikes. The high-performance motorcycles lining one wall of the garage were admittedly much more powerful than his old 125cc motorbike, but their operation was virtually the same. _Now if I can just remember how,_ he thought absently. It had been years since he'd ridden one, but Michael didn't have time to second guess himself. He shrugged. "I can manage. They're the fastest thing here right?"

The mechanic shrugged back. "Well…yeah. Certainly…and maneuver through traffic much more quickly…"

"Then I'll take this one," Michael replied impatiently, his mind made up. It was the biggest of the lot, a silver BMW sport touring bike that looked like it could do light speed.

The old man was unable to resist the question. "Where are you going in such a hurry?" he said lightly, his curiosity apparent.

"Hungary," Michael replied absently while inspecting the powerful motorcycle. He straddled the bike and grabbed the handlebars. With surprising ease, he lifted it off its support stand. He'd almost forgotten how much stronger he had become. Controlling the 1100cc monster at breakneck speeds suddenly became much less daunting.

"Budapest!? That's at least ten hours away, if not closer to twenty," he scoffed without thought. "No one can ride for that long. You'll freeze your ass off…" the old lycan trailed off as Michael shot him a direct and dominating glare. Michael's desperation brooked no argument. It was already early afternoon. He had to leave. Michael didn't care about comfort. He only cared about getting to Selene.

"Let me get you the keys," the lycan said, contrite and irritated at the same time. He turned hastily to the small garage office, mumbling absently about the recklessness of young immortals. He came back moments later with the keys and a helmet. "You're going to need this. I hear it rains there a lot," he said. He handed Michael the items with abject reluctance. As he gazed longingly at the motorcycle, Michael realized that the old lycan really adored it. Then he realized the old man probably would have had that reaction with any vehicle Michael decided to choose.

"Forgive me for saying, Sir," Gilliam said abruptly. "But why don't you just _fly_ to Budapest?"

Michael said nothing. He merely opened his leather jacket, revealing the sub-machine gun strapped under his arm.

"Oh, well…there you go," the old man said cheerfully.

With no time to waste, Michael inserted the key and hit the ignition switch.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Selene stepped from the SUV with caution. Seeing no apparent threat, her anxiety increased tenfold. She looked back at the front gate, at the iron bars sitting carelessly wide open. Scanning the area, she saw that the grounds were unkempt and overgrown. She then looked up at Ordoghaz, at the mansion that had been her home for well over a century. There were no lights, no sounds, nothing to indicate any sort of life stirred there. It was only hours before midnight. _The house should be teeming with activity._ She heard the distant sound of passing thunder, the wind as it blew fall leaves across the gravel-lined drive. Ordoghaz looked as silent and dead as a tomb.

Something was terribly wrong.

She walked slowly to the entrance, eyes squinting into the black maw of the doorway. The double-doors were hanging wide open. She noted several windows had been shattered as well. She stepped through the threshold, feeling her alarm increasing. The entrance hall was a shambles. Leaves blew around the floor in tired circles. The various pieces of furniture, the priceless antiques, were left discarded in haphazard disarray. All the surfaces were covered in a thick layer of dust. She sniffed carefully, detecting nothing but the smell of rain, rot, and the unmistakable odor of rodent droppings. The foyer had not been touched for several months.

Sensing no one in the main hall beyond, she entered its yawning space with as much caution as she had entering the mansion. She found more of the same. Everything seemed to indicate the house had been deserted for some time, and had been abandoned quite suddenly. Selene saw wine glasses and even personal items lying here and there on the furniture, just as dust-laden as the rest of the room. She turned toward the huge curving stairway, hoping to gain better answers on the second floor.

Halfway up, the oddest smell enveloped her senses. It was familiar, yet not. Its strangeness set off warning bells in her head, had her pulling her full-auto Beretta from its holster. It was dark as pitch in upper hallway above. She took the steps silently.

Just before she reached the second floor landing, an ice cold chill shot up her spine, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. _Someone's watching me,_ she thought as she jerked around to point her pistol down the staircase. Her eyes darted about, her nose flared. But there was no one. She turned her head toward the blackened hallway. She knew without a doubt something horrific had happened to the sizeable group of vampires that had remained in Viktor's coven. They could not have abandoned the mansion, she realized. Most had nowhere else to go.

Taking hold of her fear, she walked down the hall, her pistol in front of her, at the ready. Passing her old bedchamber, she could not resist the temptation to investigate. The door was ajar. Sensing nothing beyond, she pushed the door open and was surprised to find all her items untouched, just as she had left them. That alone told her volumes. The vampires that remained at the mansion were admittedly slothful and lazy, but they were also excessively vain. They would have quarreled for this prized accommodation within days of discovering her treachery. All her things would have been discarded inside a week. That the room was left alone told her that whatever had happened had occurred not too long after she had left. She drew her brows together, noting that the strange smell persisted here as well. Feeling no nostalgia for the items she left behind, she continued down the hall to the far stairwell. It led to her ultimate destination, the Death Dealer's training room.

As she ascended the landing to the third floor, the sensation of being watched became overwhelming. She moved about the hallway as though in a war zone, turning the final corner to the darkened training room with keen awareness. The strange smell had become unpleasantly palatable. She carefully stepped a few paces into the Death Dealer's realm, and finally noticed devastation beyond mere neglect.

The room had been ransacked and stripped. She took the few steps to the armory. It had been cleaned of all weaponry. She looked to the large double-doors that lead to the storage rooms and interrogation chambers. Those areas held even more advanced weaponry and equipment, some of which could create an immense amount of destruction if placed in the wrong hands. She turned in that direction.

Suddenly, seemingly from thin air, a voice coming from directly behind Selene whispered her name. She jerked around, hearing nothing else, seeing not even a flash of movement in the near black environment. Feeling a sudden breeze buffet her from behind, she jerked back around, ready to fire. Before she had time to pull the trigger, the dark figure struck her face with a blow of such force it snapped her head back, almost breaking her neck. She was unconscious before she hit the floor.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Selene became aware of excruciating pain. A quiet moan escaped her lips. It felt like her head was clamped in a vice, and being squeezed. She then realized she was lying in a fetal position, face down on a cool, hard surface. She tried to open her eyes. Only one seemed to function properly, and it was plastered to the cool, hard surface. Someone must have beaten her while she lay unconscious. Her entire torso felt bruised, so much so that she could manage only small, shallow breaths. She began to realize she was on the floor, marble probably. She didn't really care. Her skull hurt too much to care about anything at the moment.

She tried to raise her head then. _Now that was stupid_, she thought instantly. Bile immediately began to rise into her throat. She was going to retch. She started heaving, but nothing except bile came out. The pain in her head was blinding. She opened her eyes finally, and noticed blackened blood all around her. _So that's why nothing was coming out._ She'd already emptied her stomach. She couldn't smell the blood for her nose was completely clotted with it. When the heaving stopped, she laid her head back down. The marble was very soothing.

Through a red haze she noticed movement next to her, and she unconsciously curled into a tighter, protective ball. Selene suddenly heard a male with a deep, English accent speak from a few paces away. "Little one…If you kick her again, I will snap that vindictive neck of yours. She must live, for now." The movement next to her subsided, which was good. Selene didn't want to be kicked again. That she must live was not a priority.

She heard additional movement from another part of the room and realized there were several people roaming about. She felt herself begin to lose consciousness again when she heard another vaguely familiar Hungarian voice speak.

"Do you think we'll be here long, my Lord?" she heard the male voice ask deferentially.

"Relax. He'll be here soon enough. Before you know it, we'll be back in the comfort of the city, and finally rid of this place. Once, and for all," the English-sounding male spoke with dark, authoritative finality. Uncontrollably, Selene felt her bowels curl painfully as her stomach once again began to contract from the excruciating pain in her head.

"Friedrich, would you please give her something for that. It's bad enough she lies in her own filth," the man in control said tiredly.

Selene sensed someone standing over her again. She didn't move, but only because she couldn't. She felt a sudden, warm sensation shoot up her arm. Almost straight away, she began to feel better. The headache faded and with it, the nausea. It was replaced with an overwhelming languidness that made her think of nothing but sleep.

She fought the desire for slumber, realizing she had to assess what was going on. She raised her head fully, and knew instantly where she was. As soon as she tried to move her hands underneath her for support, Selene realized she was manacled. Panicking, she tried to get up, to escape, only to fall down on her face again. Her ankles were hobbled as well. She was going nowhere.

She looked around the Death Dealer interrogation room, finally noticing the tall blond man in a black pinstripe suit staring out the window. Slowly, she noticed the other individuals in the room as well. There were a dozen in all. She recognized one as a rookie Death Dealer. To her utter surprise, lounging lethargically in a chair was Erika, the young Kraven sycophant that so irritated Selene while she was living in the coven. All the vampires in the room were fairly new immortals, she finally realized. Where were the older, more experienced vampires? Then she noticed that odd smell again. It was especially strong in this room. She winced as a sharp, stabbing pain reminded her of her injuries. Her skull still hurt, despite the drugs they had given her.

The blond man began to speak to Selene.

"I've been watching television. Fascinating. Like a play in a box… A book come to life. How exciting it must have been for you to live through this age. So many changes." As the young-looking male spoke, he held up her automatic handgun, inspecting it with avid curiosity. "One almost has trouble coping."

Selene swallowed hard. Despite his outward appearance, Selene sensed immediately that the Corvinus Elder was not right in his mind. And she knew immediately it _was_ Marcus. She had seen his portrait often enough to commit his youthful face to memory. She knew, out of desperation for a leader, one of the lesser vampires of the coven would make the attempt to awaken him. Having made the attempt to wake an Elder herself, she also knew the dire risks, the inevitable consequences. The immortal world was in serious trouble.

He simply could not manage without Amelia's memories to anchor him. His intellect, though certainly advanced, was completely out of context with the dramatic changes that occurred in the last two centuries. An eighteenth century elder in the twenty-first century was akin to giving a small child free reign in an armory. Fear suddenly shot through Selene's body. The coven had incredible power both in the human world and immortal realm. The loss of Ziodex Industries would put a dent in that power only. With the dangerous technology now at his disposal, he could not possibly understand the consequences of his actions.

All these thoughts flashed through her in an instant. Her fears must have registered on her face, because he suddenly looked on her with abject condescension. With a tisking sound he lowered her weapon. "No, no, no, young woman. That will not do. I'll not take my leave with you thinking I'm a madman." His voice darkened considerably. "I can assure you, I am not."

With a growing smirk, he crossed the floor to where she knelt. Slowly, he crouched before her in avid curiosity. His face not a foot from hers, his eyes glowed brightly back at her equally blue ones. That odd, faintly familiar smell enveloped her again. For some strange reason, she could not control the terror building in her stomach. Something was very wrong here.

"Such a lovely thing," he said softly. His nostrils flared noticeably. He cocked his head with a slight frown. With one thumb, he pulled her collar aside, inspecting her neck. "Yet, still a vampire." He then closed his eyes, breathing deeply, smelling her. He grinned lustfully, drawing his tongue over his elongated fangs. She recoiled at the sight. He opened languorous eyes. "He prepared you with great care. The desire to mark you must be overwhelming. Why does he hesitate?" he wondered rhetorically.

"You are mad," Selene asserted, disgust showing clearly through her battered and bloodied face.

He shook his head in bemusement as he continued to look over her features. Comprehension then came over his face. "He's trying to spare you. How sweet. And how very convenient for me, seeing as how you'll probably breed like rabbits once you're turned," he said with a laugh. Seeing her blank face, an odd look came over him then. "You really have no idea do you? Surely our scent is familiar." He twitched his nose. "The species combine to create such a unique signature."

As she stared at him, comprehension hit her like a physical blow. In the clarity of pain, she realized the immortal world was in far more peril than even she had recognized.

"Let's introduce ourselves, shall we?" Marcus ordered lightly, as his eyes began to blacken.

Her horror turned to despair as she watched each and every individual in the room metamorphose into their hybrid state. These people whom she barely knew to begin with were suddenly transformed into chillingly lethal versions of vampires. Their skins turned pale blue. Their hair darkened. Their fangs became elongated needles, almost snake-like in their lethalness. All stared at her with utter loathing, with night-colored eyes. Erika, the most familiar of them, now looked at her with a killing hatred. It was obvious then to Selene that only the Elder's wishes were keeping her alive.

"Now! Now! Don't look at the girl like that!" He addressed the other hybrids as he smirked down at Selene's increasing despair. "After all, how could she have known the consequence of bringing a _lycan_ into my crypt?" All pretenses fell from his face then, as he directed all his pain and torment to the woman kneeling before him. "How could she have known that lycan's blood would waken me?" he whispered, his own despair etched on his face.

Selene gasped. _The scientist!_ In her mind, she saw the lycan scientist chained the floor of the crypt, watched as Viktor's killing blow spilled a river of lycan blood onto the floor. She closed her eyes. They blamed her, despised her, for their hated state. And she realized they had every right to condemn her. Her ignorance had caused this, her willfulness. Her eyes slowly opened to the man looming before her. He knew her thoughts. There was no hope in defeating a creature such as he had become, much less a room full of vampire hybrids. She did not fear her own death. At that moment she realized the true depth of her feelings. _Michael. Don't come. Don't try to save me. _

If this was penance, hell would be better.

"Michael…He's innocent," she whispered, the saline tears now falling from her eyes and stinging the deep cuts on her cheek. Her pride was forgotten. "Please. Don't hurt him. I beg you."

"Hurt him?" Marcus said, appalled. "My dear girl, why on earth would I hurt Michael, my kinsman, my own flesh and blood?" Seeing the look on her face, the perceptive elder quickly drew the correct conclusion. "I'm not Viktor you know," he said almost defensively. "I hope that bastard is rotting in hell. Why you killed him I can only imagine, but I've no doubt he earned it…for what he's done to me and mine alone, he deserved it."

Selene failed utterly to hide her confusion at his last statement. She shook her head slowly, and suddenly slumped. Lowering her head, she finally gave in to defeat. She saw no other choice.

Seeing this, Marcus moved back to her and looked down at her bowed head. "Oh, but this isn't right. You do yourself disservice with this self pity." Selene slowly raised her head. The look of hatred that came unconsciously to her face made the Elder hybrid smile in near delight. "Now that's better. Chin up!" He crouched down again before Selene with an eager smile. "We must prepare for Michael's arrival."

.

.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

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**_To Reviewers:_**

**_Lady K2_**_ – Shedding one's prejudices doesn't happen overnight – even when one realizes the evilness of said prejudices. She's seen lycans as the enemy for so long, it's ingrained as an instinct. And, also too, she lives with the constant knowledge of what she's done to them. Imagine a Nazi SS officer living amongst former concentration camp Jews, and you get a better picture of her actions. She's terrified of their potential retribution._

_Viktor obviously tried to make a more ideal Sonya out of Selene. Vivienne would have seen right through his actions, and would have pitied Selene for it. Vivienne knew damn well what had really happened to Selene's family. The temptation to tell Selene the truth must have been near overwhelming, but Vivienne could not have told the young vampire at thing. It would have compromised her scheme to bring down Viktor._

**_Imraith-Nimphias_**_ – Have a problem with "worship" huh? Extensive personal experience dictated that term. Even the most lewd, hardcore, lust-ridden sex in the world is an exercise in mutual adoration when two people are in love with one another. I'll retract what I said before about sticking to hardcore slash (because people actually read these things right along with the story), but please try to elaborate more on your criticisms…otherwise, what purpose do they serve? That whole chapter is sappy-sentimental to me…but most love scenes are to my mind._

**_Katylar_**_ – The lycans are instinctively aware of how powerful Michael is…they sort of show that in the movie. But, yes, he is naturally dominant to everyone except Selene and Vivienne. _

_Ah! I was wondering if anyone would mention the painting. [grin] The "Dutch masterpiece" in Vivienne's boudoir is a mixture of several paintings representing the "vanitas" era (c. 1600s) of Dutch still-life painters. The vanitas paintings are of __objects that symbolized the vanity of worldly things and the briefness of life, symbols of transience and the conceited futility of all earthly endeavour. It's a visual reminder that one should remain humble. I thought such a painting would fit perfectly with Vivienne's character. I could not resist the irony, and I don't think Vivienne could have either. If you'd like to see representatives of this style, look up Van Heem or maybe Pieter Claesz._

_In my story, I follow strictly what the movie gives us. Lucian seems quite dead at the end. If they cop out and cannot resist the cheesiness of bringing Lucian "back to life" in Underworld 2, then that's their privilege of course. As for Marcus and Erika…well, now you know! [grin]_

**_Trivnbugs_**_ – Go back and look at that reply in Chapter 9. I fixed it for you. [grin] I think._

**_Angie_**_ – Anyone Michael bites will get the fused virus from all three strains – the lycan, vampire, and original pure Corvinus strain.__ The fused virus will take over (dominate) whatever other strain is in the host's body, and turn that host into a hybrid variant. So, essentially, you're right. He's carrying a new "Hybrid" virus. _

_But – and this is important – Michael still carries the original pure Corvinus strain in his genetic code. It is what keeps his chromosomes and DNA structure reproductively viable. He'll be able to pass on those genes, whereas those he bites will not (unless, of course, they mate with an individual carrying the pure original Corvinus strain in their genetic code). He bites someone, it doesn't make them sterile per se, but any embryo that they would produce would not have the genetic code of the original strain in their DNA to withstand gestation in the womb. The hybrid virus would kill something so fragile as a fetus. _

_This is why Marcus comments "He prepared you [Selene] with great care." The Hybrid virus is as poisonous to immortals as the vampire or lycan bite is to humans. While it's possible to survive the bite of a hybrid, most immortals die within an hour of being bitten...Their bodies must be carefully prepared (immunized) before they can withstand a full infection of the hybrid virus. _

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	12. Letting Go

Underworld - The Turning

Written by  
Wendy Dale Smith  
st7ci-at-hotmail.com

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**_To Reviewers:_**_ Just a reminder, I've moved the review replies to the end of the chapter.__  
  
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**  
Chapter 12**

Michael approached the front gate with intense caution. It had taken him almost eighteen hours to get to Ordoghaz, and dawn was less than an hour away. He was still damp and frozen from the massive storm that hit him just as he left Vienna. It had caused him to lose his way twice once he entered the meandering Hungarian countryside. His anxiety had increased with each mile, and now he was completely tense and on edge. _Not the best way to feel going into a war zone_, he thought in frustration.

Michael glanced over the castle with curiosity as he drove through the gate. There were no lights, no visual evidence of any kind to say someone resided there. He then spotted Selene's SUV parked conspicuously in the drive, and his heart stopped cold. Until that moment, he had held out an inkling of hope that she would change her mind and turn around. Swallowing in grim determination, he sped up and slid to an abrupt stop behind the vehicle.

He quickly pulled his helmet off and dropped it to the ground. His eyes were bloodshot. His entire body throbbed with cold and fatigue. Yet he ignored the pain as he rushed to the truck. He could see nothing through the window. Yanking the driver's side door open, he stuck his head inside. After pulling his gloves off, he slowly brought his fingertips down the back of the seat. He drew his brows together in fear as he smelled her lingering scent, a scent that was telling him she had been at the castle for hours. He shut the car door and looked up at the mansion.

As he entered the castle foyer, he immediately picked up Selene's scent. Without hesitation, he followed it. He walked into the main hall and looked about with his nose. Almost absently he noted the dilapidated state of the castle's interior. The house was foreign, unfamiliar to Michael, and its state of disuse meant nothing to him. He looked up at the massive curving staircase to his left. His brow darkened as he gazed into the black spaces above. _That's where she went._ Sensing she was very close, he took the steps two at a time.

He picked up the scent of the creatures as soon as he stepped onto the second floor landing. They were near. He sensed their eyes on him. But Selene had been there, had walked down that hall, and his fear for her safety far outweighed any concern he might have felt for himself. Undeterred by their threat, he pressed on down the hallway.

He followed her scent to an opened doorway. He stepped into the room and immediately recognized its spacious interior. It was the room Selene had brought him to after he had saved her from a certain drowning. He looked over at the window he had leapt out of all those months ago. This had been her bedroom, he realized. Her scent lingered strongly in the space, but it was very old. She wasn't there. He continued down the hall, toward the stairs at the far end, taking those steps two at a time as well.

He felt his anxiety increase tenfold as he stepped into what was obviously a military training room. It looked like a larger version of Selene's cellar. As he focused on her scent, another smell buffeted him. He looked down with alarm, and found blood on the floor. He slowly bent down to touch it. It was her blood. Selene's blood.

They had hurt her.

Reaching the limit of his tolerance, something fractured inside Michael, and he willingly let the pieces come apart. Instantly, his terror became raw, uncontainable fury.

He ripped off his jacket as he began to change. Immediately, his hybrid senses picked up the two beings watching him. He didn't look up, did not give away that he knew they were there. The creatures were right above him, traveling noiselessly in the darkened shadows, upside-down on the six meter-high ceiling.

With a growl, he raised his machine gun and pulled the trigger.

The silence was torn asunder with a rapid burst of deafening, automatic fire. Michael vented an entire clip into the dark creature closest to him, taking it completely by surprise and knocking it off the ceiling. It hit the floor with a bone-jarring thud. Michael immediately reached up to intercept the other corporeal shadow that had launched at him from its flanking position. The part of him that could kill for retribution alone, that part of Michael that was _human_, felt a feral, vile joy as he attacked without restraint. In that moment, he would have gladly slaughtered every last one of them that had dared to shed a drop of her blood.

Selene's hand-to-hand training now a virtual instinct, Michael ducked and turned as he threw his spent weapon aside. Slipping past the creature as it landed on all fours, Michael spun back around and viciously slashed its face with one clawed hand. Blood and flesh flew across the room as he tore half its face off. With lightening speed and blind ferocity, Michael pinned the figure to the floor and took hold of its head. His claws lodging into the creature's skull, he bent swiftly and brutally bit into its neck. Feeling the body jerking spasmodically, he became even more enraged. Taking hold of its head and shoulder, Michael pulled with all his strength. Jerking his arms wide, he ripped the head clean from the body. Throwing the mangled remains aside, he roared his satisfaction.

The first assailant had barely recovered by the time Michael attacked. He bodily shoved the creature with a bone-crushing blow. By then, Michael could clearly see it was some sort of vampire. But knowing that made no difference. That this vampire had harmed Selene terrified and angered Michael beyond his ability to control it. They were a threat that needed to be neutralized. He followed the male vampire immediately as he slammed him against wall. He brought up his claws as he made contact, aiming for his enemy's soft underbelly. With a growl, Michael brutally penetrated the vampire's torso with both clawed hands. Feeling the back of the vampire's ribcage through soft vital organs, Michael ripped his arms wide, disemboweling the dark creature instantly.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Marcus and the rest of the hybrids in the interrogation room jumped as they heard gunfire coming from somewhere on their floor.

Marcus cursed. "He's early."

Selene, still lying on the floor, opened her eyes. Having the presence of mind not to move, she immediately closed them again. She then heard someone burst into the room.

"They're set, My Lord," the unfamiliar voice blurted breathlessly. "Just flip this here and press that. Make sure you're well away. It'll bring the whole bloody place down," he said with relish.

"Excellent work," Marcus said eagerly. Selene heard others moving about in haste. "Get her to the guesthouse, make sure she's secure, and get back here immediately. The rest of you to the storage room. Hurry. I'm sure he's frightened enough." Marcus' voice was clipped, anxious.

Selene very nearly jerked in alarm at those words. She knew what he meant by the "guesthouse". Selene managed to remain passive while one of the hybrids undid her bindings and yanked her off the floor. She knew it was the only opportunity she had to escape. With as much speed and strength as her vampire abilities allowed, she wrenched her elbow into the hybrid's face, instantly hearing his nose and cheekbones shatter. With a cry, the hybrid immediately loosened his grip to clutch at his bloodied and broken nose.

Ignoring the doorway, Selene sprinted for the window. When she launched herself, fully prepared to dive head first through the third floor windowpane, a powerful unseen blow shoved her sideways, knocking the wind from her instantly. She hit the wall, slamming her head against it. From where she landed on the floor, Selene could just make out the figure looming over her. It was Erika, smiling in quiet satisfaction. It was the last thing she saw before blackness overcame her.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Michael took deep, calming breaths as he gazed almost indifferently at the bloodbath he had wrought. The horror of what he had just committed was put aside, buried. He could still smell Selene, her blood, through all the carnage. His brows drew together as he thought of her in pain. He closed his eyes tightly. _GO AWAY!_ he thought fiercely, ordering his hybrid state to abate. Something was telling him she was near, alive. And he sensed losing control like that again would only get her killed.

Looking around the room now with his human eyes, Michael spotted another large metal double-door. He walked to it with caution. Flanking the door as Selene had taught him, he listened carefully. Hearing movement on the other side, he sniffed. He could smell more of them. _Okay, now what the hell do I do?_ he cursed silently, wishing he had paid more attention to her lessons. Losing patience with his own ineptness, Michael disregarded caution. He stepped back and burst through the reinforced metal doors without effort.

The large hallway was empty, but he could still smell her. Ignoring several doors that lined either side of the hall, he focused on the metal doors at the other end of the hallway, at the light that shown clearly through the cracks at its base. Setting his jaw, he rushed to them, and shoved the doors open. Michael took three quick steps into the empty room before he stopped, stance at the ready.

Leaning against the far wall stood a man in a dark suit and tie. His arms were crossed. His face was expressionless, showing no outward concern. Michael's nose flared, telling him another story. The other male became alarmed at the sight of Michael.

Michael realized the gruesome state he was in. Dark blood was running down his chest and arms. His hair was wet with it. He could hear the steady drip of the deep-red liquid as it hit the marble floor. In his mouth, the hybrid flesh tasted bitter. Gathering every vestige, he bent slightly and spit it out, never once taking his eyes off the man who stood before him. He saw him flinch.

Michael looked down at the floor, at the manacles and the dark pool of regurgitated blood at his feet. His senses were telling him Selene had been there just moments before. He turned his eyes slowly back up to the man who was silently watching him.

"Where is she?" Michael said softly. Michael didn't need to say more. The implications were obvious if the other man did not say exactly what Michael wanted to hear. The lycan in him was overwhelmed with terror, and ached with the desire to kill. He was already a hairsbreadth from losing control again.

The man looked up briefly at something behind Michael and grimaced. He scowled back at Michael again, eyes now very aggravated. Michael heard the hallway doors open, sensed the others coming long before they walked silently through the doorway to surround him. They moved with painstaking caution around Michael. He counted ten in all. He lowered his chin and continued to gaze at the man he now realized was Marcus Corvinus. Michael's nose flared. At that moment, he also knew something else.

Though Marcus looked the part, he was no longer a vampire. None of them were, despite their normal vampire appearances. What he had killed in the other room had been their altered state. Not knowing or caring how it was so, Michael set his jaw, waiting, and silently hoping the elder would give him the answer he so desperately needed.

Marcus stood carefully from the wall, his arms loose at his sides. He took no defensive stance. "She's safe," he finally replied.

That wasn't the right answer. Eyes blackening, Michael charged him.

The two hybrids closest to Marcus responded instantly, grabbing Michael bodily and shoving him away from their leader with such force, he flew backwards through the room's entrance. Without thought, he flipped and landed on all fours. His claws dug into the marble floor as he slid backwards to a halt. With a roar, he launched into the room again.

Their movements were as fast, but he was better trained. He ripped the throat out of the first hybrid that came at him. Without stopping, he attacked the next, ducking to the side and snapping the back of her neck with one powerful blow of his forearm. A third attacked simultaneously, ripping a huge gash down Michael's back and side. He roared in pain and leapt to the ceiling. Rebounding immediately, he flipped back behind the third aggressor and grabbed him by the neck, slamming him up against the wall. He growled and began to squeeze his hand into a fist, about to rip his throat out, when he heard Marcus bellow a command.

"STOP!"

All the vampire hybrids halted their movement.

Michael growled as the hybrid he had suspended against the wall struggled to break free. He began to squeeze. The vampire-like male immediately started to gurgle as claws punctured his jugular, filling and overflowing his mouth with arterial blood. Michael felt a small, cold breeze.

"Put him down or she's dead," Marcus said quietly right into Michael's ear.

Michael jerked back, dropping the hybrid immediately. Somehow, without Michael becoming aware of the movement, the elder was right at his side. Not even his enhanced senses had picked up Marcus' great speed. The action threw Michael off enough to halt his killing frenzy. He stared at Marcus with startled black eyes.

The Elder stayed in his powerful hybrid form only briefly. As Michael panted, still at the mercy of his hybrid state, he watched the elder turn back to his vampire form almost instantly. In awe, Michael realized the elder could control his turning with ease, no matter how enraged he was. For there was no doubt Marcus _was_ furious. He exuded it to all the hybrids. As the elder looked about the room, Michael realized his rage wasn't directed solely at him.

"I told you _not_ to attack!" Marcus barked at his subordinates. He shook his head. "Absolutely no patience," he growled in frustration as he watched Michael struggling to control his feral desires. He sighed angrily and glanced to his right. He then stalked over to inspect the hybrid Michael had slashed in the throat. The male was very dead. Marcus then cursed in a language Michael had never heard before.

"THREE!" he said as he turned blazing eyes at Michael. "Three gone!" he bellowed again. "Do you realize how difficult it is to turn them!?" He looked over his now dead vampire hybrid. "And I liked this one," he said in frustration. He looked at Michael in consternation, and then glanced at the two other hybrids that were gravely injured. "Get them out of here!" he barked. Michael watched as three more picked up the dead and injured and quickly exited the room. He counted five left including Marcus. _Their odds weren't getting any better,_ Michael thought in dark pleasure.

"I knew you'd be difficult," Marcus said accusingly, as he glanced absently at the retreating members of his groups. He eyed the window as he turned back to face Michael. "Calm yourself, boy. I have questions for you," he said darkly. Glancing to his right again, Marcus walked up to Michael boldly, showing no wariness.

Michael realized then that Marcus was so physically powerful he had no reason to fear him. He would sense Michael's attack long before he made a move. _The vampires here never had a chance_, Michael thought grimly. He narrowed his eyes at the pacing elder. Yet he could tell the ancient hybrid was still anxious about something.

Confused, Michael took deep, calming breaths, focusing on controlling his anger. He felt himself finally come out of his feral state.

Seeing this, the elder nodded. "Good, good," he said approvingly. He then turned and walked to the window, deep in thought as he gazed out. He turned his head to look back at Michael. "How well do you know the curse of abomination?" Marcus said piercingly. With another glance out the window, Marcus began to pace again.

Michael just clenched his jaw as his eyes followed the elder carefully. "I know enough," he replied quietly.

"Do you really?" Marcus said ominously. "Oh, I doubt that very much."

Michael glared at him. The only thing he cared about knowing at the moment was Selene's location. "Where is she?!" he growled.

"Patience!" Marcus barked back. He glanced out the window. "Time to leave," he ordered the other hybrids. Quickly, they all bowed and left the two very powerful Corvinus males alone.

The two men stared at one another for several tense moments, one desperate and angry, one calm and pensive.

Marcus moved to stand a few meters in front of Michael, watching him soberly. "Why did she come back here? What did she hope to accomplish?" At Michael's silence, Marcus drew his brows together. "Did she want to die?"

Michael snarled at that. "Go fuck yourself."

Marcus grimaced. "Colorful, Michael," he said reproachfully. He skewed up his face in confusion. "Do you know she actually begged me not to harm you?" He raised his arms to encompass the house. "I've destroyed this entire coven!" he bellowed desperately. "Now with only nine hybrids to show for it," Marcus said in quiet agony. He looked up at Michael then with pained bafflement. "Why, in God's name, would I harm you?" He moved to the back wall again and leaned against it. Michael could only watch as the maddened play of emotions crossed his ancient relative's face. Marcus looked at Michael then with heartfelt longing. "How I envy your life to come."

Michael wasn't stupid. He sensed there was more at play with Marcus than the other man was revealing. His peculiar diatribe had a purpose. He then saw the elder's eyes dart to his right again. It was at least the third time he had done so. Michael's eyes narrowed. He jerked his head in the direction of Marcus' darting glance, to the large bay window facing east.

Suddenly, Michael realized exactly what Marcus was doing. Through the window, he saw the unmistakable cobalt blue of dawn approaching. The elder was stalling for time, waiting for the sun to rise. His heart clinched in panic, and he suddenly forgot all caution. In a flash, Michael stood nose to nose with the powerful hybrid, eyes blackened in terror fueled rage.

"Where is she, goddamn it!" he hissed, wanting to turn, but not letting the change take control.

Marcus shook his head and sighed as he stared at his relative. "Alright. You want to draw it out, that's fine with me," he said mysteriously. He knew he'd been found out, had given away his intent. He sighed again in disgust. Calmly, he finally let Michael know her location.

"In the woods, behind the house, there is a path…Follow it."

Michael paused. Seeing this, Marcus smiled at Michael's hesitation. Now that he finally got the information he so desperately wanted, Michael was uncertain of the elder's sincerity. Marcus glanced at the window openly, and said lightly, "I'd hurry if I were you."

Michael let out the breath he had been holding and looked out the window, to the terrifying, nascent glow of early dawn. He spared one last look at the elder before he turned and vaulted for the window, smashing through it as he leapt to the ground three stories below.

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**_To Reviewers:_**

**_Brettley_**_ – Michael can "read" Selene just as easily as Marcus can, if not more so. It's just that Marcus doesn't suffer from the uncertainties that Michael still suffers from. Marcus is ancient, and because of that, is much surer of his perceptions of the people around him. _

**_Jubillie-gurl_**_ – That's a great question. Vivienne is running and maintaining an integrated den/coven for several reasons. The most important reason is to protect and preserve the ancient symbiosis of vampire and lycan relations. She had experienced that relative harmony for over 300 years, and knew that was the natural way for the two species to coexist. It was Viktor who insisted that a schism be in place, and that all lycans should be destroyed. Victor and Vivienne were consorts many centuries past, were married to one another, and had a child together – Sonya. But that marriage ended when Viktor burned Sonya at the stake. Viktor murdered Vivienne's beloved daughter and Vivienne hated Viktor for it…so much so that she schemed his downfall for 600 years. _

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	13. The Turning

Underworld - The Turning

Written by  
Wendy Dale Smith  
st7ci-at-hotmail.com

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**Chapter 13**

Spotting the gaping outdoor entrance, Michael leapt the dozen steps into the guesthouse basement. His nose told him they had brought Selene here. Eyes quickly adjusting to the dark room, he spotted her instantly. Selene jerked her head up at his unexpected entrance. She was sitting in a sparse metal chair in the middle of the room. He recognized it as the same device she once chained him to, the night of his first turning. He looked back up the steps, at the intense, bright blue beginning to permeate the dark star-filled sky.

Michael's face began to fill with terrible comprehension. There were no doors on the double-wide doorframe, no way to shelter the room from the sunrise. He swallowed in fear. She would be completely exposed. Looking at the floor, he saw it was covered in a thick grayish dust. His fear turned to horror. Michael knew instantly what he was seeing. _Death._ The gray powder covering the entire floor was the cremated remains of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of vampires. He was standing in a room of execution. He turned panic-filled eyes to Selene. She had minutes before the sun's radiation began to burn away her fair skin.

She was looking at him in relief, the happiness at seeing him showing through her obvious despair. "Michael?" she said in tired awe, noticing his warrior clothing, and that he was coated in blood.

"I'm getting you out of here," he said with quiet deliberation as he moved to the chair.

"No, you can't," Selene responded tiredly as he approached. She sat in the metal interrogation chair, stooped with resignation. She had been beaten badly. Blood still seeped from several deep cuts on her face. But before he could tend those relatively minor wounds, he had to remove the primary danger. He had to get her out of this room.

Michael looked over her bindings, noting the ankle chains as well as the manacles clamped tightly to her wrists. With shaking hands, he grabbed her wrist manacle and tried to pull her hand through. Blood was already oozing from her wrists where the handcuffs cut into her flesh. At her cry he realized he would pull her hand off before the manacles came loose. "I tried that already!" she blurted, jerking her hands from his.

Michael swore in frustration and anger, changing instantly into his hybrid form again. Selene's eyes widened, surprised at the rapid and deliberate change. Michael didn't notice. In desperation, he seized one of the thick titanium chains near the base plate of her chair and pulled with all his strength. Arms straining with palpable force, his growl echoed deeply in the cement and steel chamber. Blood ran down the irregular links as the chains cut into his palms where his hands slipped.

Selene winced at the painful sight, "The chains can't be broken. Not even by you." Selene looked up in fear at the growing brightness in the eastern horizon. "Michael, listen!" Selene stood as much as the short chains would allow and gently caught his face in her hands, forcing him to face her. She spoke softly, calmly earnest. "Shhh…Listen to me. We're running out of time. You have to calm yourself." Shaking his head in denial, she had to force him to look her in the eyes.

He bared his fangs, panting in terror as his black eyes beseeched her. She merely stared back, her face sad, but resolute. Calming himself as best he could, he gently lowered his head to her, falling to his knees before her as she sat chained to the cold metal torture device. She gently stroked his head as he held her desperately. He changed back to his human form in mere moments.

Noting the bright gold now penetrating the deep blue morning light, Selene looked down at his tawny head and gripped his arms painfully. "You have to bite," she suddenly ordered with frightened urgency.

Michael raised his head briefly to the dawn behind him. "There's another way. There has to be…"

She turned his face back to hers. "No there isn't."

"But you'll die!" he whispered fiercely.

"You can't be sure of that! But I most certainly will if you don't." She held his face with a gentleness she had never dared. "We have to try, Michael…"

"No! Listen to me!" He grabbed her hands and held them tightly as his eyes pleaded with her. "I didn't tell you. I didn't…I didn't want you to know." he grimaced and closed his eyes briefly in pain, realizing he had no choice now. He gazed into her fear-ridden eyes, willing her to understand. "Selene…if I bite you, you will age, and you will die. You'd be mortal again. Like me," he said in fierce self-loathing. He let go of her hands and grabbed her upper arms. "That's why Viktor hated it. That's why the rules were in place!" She frowned at him, his simple words and their implications refusing to register.

Michael couldn't bare the thought of her dying because of him. It didn't matter if it happened at that moment, or fifty years later. Ultimately, his bite would cause her death. And to Michael, that was no different than putting a gun to her head and pulling the trigger. "My tests were conclusive. I would kill you," he said, emphasizing every painful word.

The thought of her death brought on the change as his eyes began to blacken. He lowered his head and bent forward as he held her, fighting it with everything he had. The inadvertent move suddenly exposed Selene's face fully to the gathering light. In moments the sun would break the horizon. At her pain-filled exhalation of breath, his eyes shot back up to hers.

Selene was looking up at the entrance, her eyes now a brilliant hazel. They were a color Michael had never seen. He suddenly realized the morning light was emblazing them with a soft, yellow glow. The sun was just under the horizon, filling the sky with radiant blue, crimson and gold. They had seconds left. Selene stared in wonder at the beautiful sight as long as she dared, then shut her eyes tightly, grimacing in pain. Already the sun's radiation was affecting her. Michael moved to block the impending light, knowing it was a futile effort.

"It doesn't matter," she said softly as she looked back up at him. It was too late. Her eyes burned as she let thick tears fall, no longer ashamed or afraid of what she felt for him. She stared at Michael with the saddest adoration. "I love you," she whispered, taking hold of her pain and fear and smiling gently into his striking eyes. "Despite all my efforts." Tenderly, she touched his face. "To be with you, even for a day…" He shook his head with a sob as he gazed back into her beautiful eyes, knowing she was saying goodbye. "Death is a small price, Michael," she finally whispered. She was shaking, holding back the excruciating pain for as long as she could. "I never wanted to live forever." She kissed him gently then, showing him, pouring into him all that was in her heart.

Suddenly, she tore away and gasped. Her head snapped back in agony, revealing the source of her pain. A brilliant beam of sunlight had entered the room a hand's breadth above her body. He could see it traveling down the wall behind her, drawing a deadly trail ever closer. Her eyes shot open briefly, now ice blue in abject pain and fear. Selene gasped again and ducked to him for protection, trying to escape the light.

"It burns!" she gasped. He heard the sound before he understood its source. Then the smell hit his senses. Radiation was filling the room. The full force of the sun had begun to touch her body. Her skin was beginning to hiss as it scorched and blackened.

Selene screamed.

Michael had no idea he had turned. All he knew was that he sank deeply, and with ease, into the soft skin of her neck. Warm liquid surged into his mouth, insuring him that he had penetrated the swiftly flowing blood of her jugular. His virus would spread throughout her body in seconds, bringing her change quickly.

Despite her burning skin, Selene gasped sharply in pain at his ferocious bite. Almost immediately, she felt the agony that accompanied the virus as he poured it into her system. It combined cruelly with her blazing flesh. Selene felt nothing but the white hot roar of pure agony as her eyes opened wide to the inferno pouring into the chamber. As if in a nightmare, she tried to scream, but no sound would come. The torturous fire had stolen her breath.

In his primal state, Michael clamped her viciously to him. Taking no pleasure in tasting her flesh, he finally pulled loose from her neck. Panting, blood stained mouth open wide, he turned his head to hers. His hybrid eyes could only stare in awe as the change took hold.

Just like his memories of Sonja, he saw Selene's pale skin alight with flame. He smelled her burning flesh, smelled her hair as it began to singe. Her mouth lay opened in a silent scream as the sun appeared fully in the eastern sky, exposing her completely. He could only watch as she burned away in his arms.

Then he noticed her eyes. They emerged from the ravages of her face like two black pearls. Suddenly, she jerked in his arms with a strength that astonished him. Her shape did not change, as his had done, yet he could feel the muscles of her back and arms turn dense as steel. His eyes shot back to her face. She had gone rigid in his arms, no longer trying to get away from his embrace. Selene panted heavily as her black eyes fixated on the rising sun.

Michael watched in fascination as her skin remolded itself as quickly as the sun had burned it away, first blackening, then becoming the palest blue. He noticed her fangs elongate to fine daggers. Gradually, she began to settle down in his arms. Her breathing slowed to a more relaxed pace. Still, she gazed at the light.

He looked up at the sunrise, his hybrid eyes squinting from its brightness. The sun was well above the horizon now. The sky was becoming a brilliant cyan as the golden rays of first light began to fade. It was going to be a beautiful day. He heard the chains rattle, and felt her movement as he cradled her in his arms. Looking down, he was taken aback. She was silently watching him with her coal-colored eyes. He stared back with his own, feeling a profound wonder.

Somehow, she was still alive…at least for a while longer.

A shadow suddenly appeared over them. Someone was standing in the entrance. He clutched Selene protectively to him. Michael looked up at the dark silhouette. With alarm, he saw that it was Marcus. As much as the chains would allow, Michael turned her away from the other hybrid's sight. It would be over his dead body before Marcus would touch her again. He rumbled low in warning.

The other man tossed something at them. It made a metallic clink as it landed on the concrete floor. Michael looked down as it slid to a stop in front of him. Twinkling in the dust-laden light was a ring of keys. Seeing shadowed movement, Michael looked up again.

Marcus was gone.

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After a few minutes, Michael carried Selene out of the death chamber into the fall meadow surrounding the guesthouse. Back in his normal human form, Michael looked down at Selene's sudden movement. She blinked and turned her head into his neck, firmly closing her sensitive black eyes from the bright morning light. She was not coherent. Her brow was damp from sweat. She was sweating. Michael was amazed at how rapidly the virus has taken over her system. She had a fever already.

Michael looked around him in hesitation, his mind a blank. He hadn't thought beyond saving Selene, and now that he had her, he didn't quite know what to do next.

From the tree line a dozen meters away, ice blue eyes watched the couple quietly. "Your lady love had the presence of mind to bring a," he hesitated, trying to form the last word, "An automobile." It was Marcus, leaning casually against a tree. His blond head gleamed in the morning light. He must have been patiently watching for them the entire time. "I would suggest you leave here with all speed."

For his part, Michael just stared at his ancient relative, clutching Selene protectively. Yet he knew the other man had no intention of harming them. The Elder Corvinus had gotten what he wanted. Michael touched his cheek to Selene's burning forehead. He added another hybrid to their fledgling species.

"I'm sorry I had to force the issue, Michael," Marcus said as he pushed himself off the tree and walked a few meters to the couple. He stopped, coming no closer at Michael's sudden, dangerous growl. Marcus smiled peaceably, his voice still calmly reasonable. "But you know we have no choice, if our species is to survive."

Michael shook his head. It was the same old argument. "Don't involve us in this."

"But you are involved, up to your necks," Marcus said with impatient irritation. He gave Michael a look like he was speaking to a naive child. "Do you really think they'll let you live as you please? Knowing what you are? We're in a new war, Michael, with new rules. Time isn't _our_ ally." Marcus smiled. "But power is. And through that power, our progeny will either rule the immortal world, or destroy it." Marcus looked at Michael with intensity, with a force of will that would not be denied. "Those are our choices. The only ones they've given us."

Michael couldn't help it. He bared his teeth in rage. "I don't give a damn about your fucking war," he said in soft ferocity.

"But she does, Michael," Marcus said, nodding to the now unconscious Selene. "She does."

Michael pulled Selene even closer, drawing his brows together tightly. He hated Marcus for what he forced him to do to her. She could have lived forever. Now she would grow old, and she would die. "If you ever touch her again, I'll kill you," he whispered.

Marcus shook his head grimly, clearly disappointed at Michael's reaction. He raised his wrist to inspect an expensive-looking watch. "Well, my coach is waiting." He smiled with relish. "In a few days I'll be taking my very first flight, to New York. I've always wanted to see the New World," he said as though he were having a pleasant conversation with an old friend. He flashed a disgusted look about him. "Certainly hope its better than the old one." He gave one curious glance at Selene. "And don't worry. She'll return to her normal state as the fever wanes," he said as he turned to make his way toward the front of the mansion.

A few paces away, he turned a wicked grin back toward Michael. "Oh, and by the way…Don't be surprised at her, shall I say, delicate senses?" Marcus laughed at his inside joke. "Better keep your strength up, cousin," he said and turned back toward the path. Michael could hear the other man chuckling as he walked away. "You're going to need it!"

Michael continued to watch as Marcus disappeared down the path. He shook his head, utterly speechless at the audacity of the elder hybrid. Michael was certain the man was a psychopath. He was perfectly willing to kill hundreds of vampires just to create a small group of hybrids. He had no doubt he would do the same to lycans, if given the chance. Anything to breed more hybrids.

He looked grimly down at Selene as he began to trudge back to the mansion. She had told him about Amelia's coven in North America. It was huge. Amelia had amassed several thousand vampires there, spread throughout the continent. He didn't even contemplate the lycans that he knew were hiding there. Marcus would be after all of them, every last immortal.

Suddenly, Michael ducked instinctively, hearing a gigantic explosion, feeling it as the concussion wave buffeted their bodies. Seconds later, he saw a black cloud mushrooming into the bright blue sky. It came from the vicinity of the mansion.

"Jesus Christ!" Michael whispered, knowing what he was seeing. They had blown up the ancient castle. They were destroying it completely. He walked back up the path as fast as his burden would allow as debris and fiery ash began to fall around them. Humans would surely be there soon to investigate. He had to get them out of there, to safety.

With terrible foreboding, Michael realized what Marcus had in store for that leaderless group of immortals in America. He looked down at Selene and swallowed. He also knew, as surely as he drew breath, that Selene would not stand idly by as the Underworld was decimated. Marcus was correct, he thought grimly.

Michael _was_ up to his neck.

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	14. As Long As I Live

Underworld - The Turning

Written by  
Wendy Dale Smith  
st7ci-at-hotmail.com

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**_To Reviewers:_**_ Thank you all **so much** for taking the time to review this Underworld story. You have been incredibly kind and more than patient. My only wish was that you obtain just a small portion of the enjoyment and entertainment I achieved in writing it. _

_And on that note, I hope you are pleased with the epilogue…__  
  
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**  
Chapter 14**

He stood over the bed, watching her sleep, captivated by her timeless beauty. Vivienne de Ursanne had been the kind of human no true immortal could resist. A rare angel that required preservation. Impassioned by the hunt, the newly awakened Marcus Corvinus had been keen for his first taste of human blood in two hundred years. His intensions had not been on the turning, only on death. But when he saw her sweet face, he judged her mortal existence unacceptable. He had felt it a duty to turn her. The callous fool that he was back then had taken her, raped her, right on the monastery floor. He had sunk his enlarged, lust-charged fangs into her beckoning, soft neck, and drank her essence right through her abbess robes. He had almost drained her dry in his eagerness, his lust. He had condemned her to immortal damnation, blissfully unaware he had given up his heart to her at the very moment he stole her soul from the God she so adored.

Marcus smiled. It had taken half a century before she finally forgave him, and another half still before she learned to love him in return.

Sensing her rousing from her light sleep, Marcus stepped back quietly into the shadow of the opened bay window. He watched her silently, waiting for her to become aware of his presence.

"Mon coeur," she whispered softly.

"I am here," he replied.

When she found his silhouette in the window, she smiled sweetly, lovingly. Slowly, she rose from the bed to stand before him, forthright and unashamed of her nudity. She had been waiting for him, he realized. She knew, even as he had not, that he would not be able to resist the need to see her one last time. As always, her beauty took his breath away.

"I had hoped you would see me," she whispered as she took a tentative step to him. "Before you left."

"Don't…tempt me, my love," he ordered, but his desperation was obvious.

"I will tempt, and tempt again, if it means I may be with you," she replied with as much desperation.

"You know we cannot. You're too old, Vivienne," he said gently. "Your blood and body could not handle it, no matter how much I prepare you."

She shook her head and took a step toward him, and he just as quickly took a step back. Tears fell silently down her face. Her usually youthful countenance suddenly seemed much older. "If I die in your arms, so be it. It is my choice, Marcus!"

"Your choice to see me suffer your death?" He shook his head vehemently. "Continue what you have done these last centuries without me. Take lovers, take hundreds if you must, but do NOT TEMPT ME AGAIN!" The Elder's voice was anguished. "I beg of you," he whispered as his face broke from the pain. He stared at the one and only source of true happiness he had ever known. He had held onto the hope of that happiness for so very long, now only to watch as it slipped irrevocably through his fingers. He knew then the hell of abomination.

"I came only to tell you it is done," he said as he turned from her, no longer able to handle the pain of not touching her. "He took her back to the mountains."

Vivienne closed her eyes briefly, taking a small measure of comfort that some good would come from the hell Marcus and she had created all those centuries ago. At least their scheming did not condemn Michael and Selene to _their_ fate.

"They will be happy there," Vivienne said. Her feeling of relief for the young lovers was blatant in her voice.

"For a time," he nodded.

Hearing that, she became alarmed. "You will keep your promise to me, my Lord?" she pleaded. "You will see no harm come to them, or any under my care?"

Hearing her beseeching words, Marcus did look back at her then. His despair was palatable as his adoring gaze wandered every inch of her.

"As long as I live, my love," he reminded her gently in a whisper. He watched her face crumble at the reminder of his mortality, at the thought of him growing old and dying without her at his side.

"As long as I live."

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Michael hesitantly entered the bedroom, mug in hand. Just a few minutes earlier, Selene had opened her eyes for the first time in two days.

"It's a little cold in here. I thought you'd want something hot to drink," Michael said softly as he sat carefully on the bed next to her.

She had suffered a high fever for most of the previous forty-eight hours. He knew she was probably going to want to eat soon, but because of her new physiology, he had hesitated giving her plasma, fearing it would draw out her fever longer than necessary. For all he knew, she might be craving meat now. _Or chocolate ice cream_, he thought, trying not to feel too enthused at the notion. From his own research, he knew a simple glucose drip would hydrate her blood enough for the time being, until he knew for sure what she could tolerate.

He then looked over and noticed she'd already yanked the drip needle from her arm. He sighed, not surprised. _Well, so much for that._

For her part, Selene felt fine. She looked about her, realizing she was in Michael's bedroom, in his bed. Her long fingers splayed over the soft white sheets as her eyes quickly inspected his space from this unique perspective. They were back in the valley. They were home. Her nose flared with avid interest as Michael carefully handed the hot drink to her.

His hands gently brushed against hers as she took the cup he offered. The touch shot through Selene like lightening, making her toes curl. _Whoa,_ she thought. _This is new._ Her nose had picked up the smell of the tea even before he entered the room with it. She had also picked up his smell. That's what had awoken her. His nearness. She could actually sense his approach. _Did he know I was waking up? Can he sense me, as I can sense him? _Getting an inkling of the excruciating tactile sensitivity that Michael had been enduring since her first bite, Selene felt suddenly in awe of his restraint._ I would have raped you a long time ago_, she thought as she darted her eyes briefly at him. She took a tentative sip of the hot liquid.

It was good. _Really_ good. The room was cold. She was cold. She shivered as she let out her breath in a whoosh of wonder. _I'm cold!_ She hadn't felt cold like that in well over a century. But the memory of what it felt to be warm-blooded came back in an instant. There was delicious pleasure to be had in regaining what was lost, regaining warmth. She took another sip, closing her eyes in pleasure as the liquid heat made its way down. Her hands gripped the mug tightly as she marveled at the simple sensation.

Michael was mesmerized. Her actions, her movements, the sounds of pleasure as she drank were nothing short of sexual. It was Selene, yet not. He sensed the change in her, her newfound energy, and her wonder at it. Michael looked away and swallowed. He was going to embarrass himself if he continued to watch. He smiled at his own discomfort.

Selene sensed his embarrassment and felt instantly awkward herself. Seeing his smile, she cleared her throat and sat up a bit more in the soft bed. _Michael's bed._ Funny, she never noticed how utterly wonderful he smelled. Actually, that wasn't true. _You did notice. _She let out a quiet laugh. _He often stank like a lycan_. But it had aroused her regardless, just as it was doing now. Now _she_ was part lycan, she realized with a start. Now she was mortal.

She was free.

She couldn't help the sigh of pleasure that escaped her lips. _Oh, this feels exquisite._ A wave of happiness enveloped her as she watched her lover. He was sitting next to her, pinning her under the bedcover, with his head bent to the floor in his usual submissive manner. He glanced up at her sideways as she placed the mug on the bedside table. She sat back and continued to watch him intently, willing him without words to turn and hold her. His brow furrowed into a frown instead.

"I'm sorry," he said simply, sparing only the briefest glance at her face.

"For what?" she replied, frowning in confusion. What could he possibly feel sorry about? She became alarmed at the thought.

"For hurting you," he whispered, staring fixedly at her shoulder. She brought a hand up to her neck. Frowning, she felt a bandage there, where he had bitten her. _Is this what was bothering him, what's keeping him from touching me?_ Pulling the oversized t-shirt aside with force, she calmly took hold of the bandage and ripped it away, wanting to see his mark on her. Noticing too late what she intended, Michael could only rumble out a feeble protest. He clenched his jaw with a fierce scowl at the sight of the huge jagged wound above her collarbone. Selene poked and inspected the uneven pink flesh with avid interest. _Good Lord, he nearly bit my shoulder off,_ she thought, totally fascinated.

Seeing that her morbid interest in his mark was making Michael very agitated, she pulled the shirt back over the wound. She felt no pain. It was already healing nicely. Getting impatient, she gently touched his chin, pulling him to face her. The look on his face made her heart break.

He shook his head. "I condemned you to die."

So that was it. He looked so miserable. Selene immediately wanted to make it better. "I was a Death Dealer. I would have regardless."

"At least there was the hope…"

"No," she cut him off. Thinking of all those wasted years, she smiled sadly. "Hope was something I never had." Gently, she touched his face with her hands. "You saved me," she said, all her emotions poured into one simple statement. "You saved me." Her eyes smiled into his as she let everything go…the hatred, the vengeance, the pain, and the terrible loneliness.

Looking at her fully, Michael let out an audible sigh of relief, for the moment soothed by her loving attention. Her hand still touching his face, she slowly traced his jaw, his dimpled chin, his lower lip. She seemed completely fascinated. _Maybe she just wants the contact._ Michael didn't stop her, thinking of all the times he had ached to touch her in just that way. He shuddered. He wanted to growl.

Her eyes softened with desire at his reaction. She slowly turned her eyes up to his. Without him realizing, he had been moving closer. Michael could feel her breath, now hot upon his lips. Want poured from her to him. With excruciating slowness he brought his lips to hers, their hot breath enhancing the contact to an almost painful level of pleasure.

Impatient to feel him, Selene bent in closer. As Michael had shown her their first time, she opened her mouth, kneading her lips over his. With a sharp intake at her aggression, he opened to her eagerly, letting her in. Her hand slipped into his hair and gripped tightly, holding him in place as she slanted her mouth over his almost roughly. The moist velvet of his tongue tasted bitter and sweet on hers. The deepest growl reverberated from his chest. Delighted at his response, she brought both hands up to thread in his dark blond locks. The action caused her breasts to come in contact with his chest and she arched further, the tingling there causing her to draw up her legs with a very specific need.

Convinced he wouldn't last two more minutes if she kept that up, Michael gently pulled back. His patient needed to rest a little longer, despite the look she was giving him to the contrary. He gulped. Selene had the same look on her face that she had in the bathroom in Paris, like she wanted to devour him. His eyes darted around every inch of her, her red swollen lips, her slumberous eyes, her breasts as they rose and fell with every breath, her nipples standing out clearly from the large cotton shirt he'd put on her not four hours before. Now he just wanted to rip it off.

She stared back at him, inspecting him as he did her. "You know what Marcus intends us to do?" she said soberly, the statement at complete odds with the lustful look on her face.

Almost immediately, Michael realized what brought on the question. The inevitable consequences of their lovemaking. However innocent and unintended, it contributed to the Elder hybrid's malevolent and immoral goals, to build up the hybrid species while destroying the vampire and lycan in the process. Like the clarity of an epiphany, he saw their future. Michael knew he would be no trivial lover for her. Selene didn't work that way. This was for life. No half measures. And she was asking him if what they were doing, what they intended to do together, was the right thing.

Michael let out his breath in a rush and erased the myriad thoughts running through his mind. They all revolved around one thing. Selene was his family. Nothing would ever taint what they shared. She could have a litter of his children if that's what she wanted. The irony of that thought brought an inadvertent grin to his face. Realizing she needed him to be serious, he tried to hide it. He failed. Selene raised her eyebrows.

"What are you thinking?" she said warily.

His grin broadened. Michael wondered if he should ask her now, or wait a couple hours. He knew for certain he couldn't wait long enough to get a ring. But he wasn't going to tell _her_ that. Absently, he wondered if vampires even did that sort of thing. But then he realized, they weren't vampires. They weren't lycans either. They were something new. And they could make their own rules.

"Michael, I really hate it when you do that," she said in warning.

Seeing her darkening expression, he raised his hand in apology. "I'm sorry. I was thinking…When have you ever let anything get in the way of what you thought was right?"

She cast down her eyes, brows furrowed. When she looked up into his again, they held a shadow of torment. "Convincing ourselves its right, because we want it to be, doesn't make it so."

She had a point. And he understood her fears. But, for Michael, it was simple. He openly voiced his thoughts. "Do you love me?"

That she was taken aback by that question was obvious. His chest suddenly clenched as a wave of doubt washed over him. Michael watched every emotion play subtly across her face. She was going through her past. Their past. Her eyes then focused back into his, back into the present, and she smiled softly.

"Yes," she whispered. The adoration in her voice was very apparent.

With a silent sigh of relief, Michael wondered how long it would take before it came easy for her to express that emotion. He couldn't deal with having a heart attack every time she hesitated.

"Then trust in that." he said simply. "It's a much better guide than hate."

The statement brought a reluctant smirk to her face. The look Selene gave him made Michael feel slightly abashed for being insightful, like he was too young to have those kinds of thoughts. But he was right and she knew it. Selene didn't try to argue the point. The realization hit him like a bolt of lightening. She was finally his. His alone.

Unbidden, out of nowhere, a wave of intense possessiveness suddenly enveloped Michael. He had her now. No one would claim her but him. His nostrils flared as his senses absorbed her. He'd kill any male who tried to touch her. Just the thought of it set him on edge. By the change in her expression, he realized his eyes had blackened even before he perceived it physically. The lycan in him decided to come out and play.

Her eyes widened in awe. _What brought this on?_ Not afraid of the change, Selene watched intently as he tried to get a hold of his emotions enough to stop himself from turning completely. His mouth slightly opened as he drew ragged breaths. She could clearly see his burgeoning fangs. She wanted to run her tongue along them, feel their sharpness. _Later, Selene,_ she admonished herself silently, stopping her inadvertent forward motion. She knew he wasn't quite ready to believe she found his hybrid state arousing. That would change soon enough. Right now, he needed her help controlling it.

She had never experienced control over another quite like this. That she could do this to him so effortlessly was very provocative and empowering. As she moved toward him again, he clamped his teeth together and growled low, baring his fangs in warning. But that only deterred her for a second. With a slight smile, she bent forward and kissed him gently.

"Shh…" she whispered. Selene closed her eyes as she softly stroked her mouth and cheek against his, reveling in the simple contact. After only a moment, she opened her eyes and found him watching her. As she suspected, her gentle touch brought him out of the dark thoughts that wanted to turn him into his feral state. She stared once again into his beautiful, turquoise eyes.

Selene smiled brightly, her ever-present fangs poking out most prominently. Michael stared back at her, marveling at the sudden evolution of her demeanor. He slowly brought one hand up to touch her face. Gently, he ran a thumb down one of the dimples that suddenly appeared with her smile. He broke into an inadvertent grin at seeing them. _You're not so tough,_ he thought, feeling humbled by her elation. He hoped fervently he could keep her this happy for the rest of her life.

Thinking of the immediate future, Michael had a small idea what was in store for the two of them. He thought of Marcus. Michael knew Selene would not be idle for long, would not let the Elder hybrid get away with whatever he had planned for the New World Coven. He almost felt sorry for the oddly likable madman. Selene had been quite fearsome to behold before all these changes. What could possibly stop her now? He shook his head, bemused, but unafraid. Whatever happened, Michael knew no harm would come to Selene. _He_ would see to that.

Suddenly, Selene's eyes darted to something behind him. Her smile faded quickly, a small frown forming in its place. Curious, Michael glanced behind him, in the direction of her gaze. Frowning, he didn't see at first what was bothering her. Then he found it. A beam of sunlight penetrated through the thick blinds covering the balcony's double doors. It was reflecting brightly off the brass footboard. He'd left one of the blinds half open. He watched her reaction. She looked like she wanted to make a run for the closet, but she was making a good effort at overcoming her instinctive fear.

"It's alright?" she asked quietly. He assumed she was asking if she could now tolerate the day.

He smiled in gentle amusement. "How do you think I got you here? In a body bag?"

She said nothing, just rolled her eyes at his sarcasm. She eyed the beam of light warily. Stress was etched on her face.

He already knew the answer, but he had to ask anyway. "You okay? Want to go to the basement?" She had almost been burned to death two days ago. There was no condemnation in his voice. If he had gone through what she just had, he probably would have buried himself in a hole for months.

Putting on a stubborn, brave face, she still would not take her eyes from spot of light. "No. Of course not."

Thinking it was now or never, Michael decided to change tactics. "It snowed for the first time last night. Snowed quite a bit actually."

"Oh really?" She didn't sound at all interested as he talked about the weather. Undaunted, he continued.

"The storm blew through this morning. The sky is a clear blue."

"I figured that," she barked impatiently, now eyeing the double-doors with wide-eyed trepidation. With that statement, it became obvious to Michael that, until that moment, Selene had not fully realized she was up in the daylight hours. Had she still been a full vampire, she would have been slowly burning to death just from the ambient light now penetrating the room. He didn't share this fact out loud. Taking a deep breath, he pressed on with his ill-conceived plan.

"Want to see?"

Now she eyed him warily. Her brow furrowed deeply at the thought of those two doors opening. She shook her head, a sudden weary look forming. "I'm a bit tired really. Now's not a good time I think."

He turned his head, giving her a look that said he knew bullshit when he heard it. "You weren't a second ago."

"What do you mean, I…" she closed her eyes abruptly, suddenly dropping her blatant pretense. She took a deep breath, opening her eyes with a set jaw. She gazed on the double doors like it was a Death Dealer's enemy. Michael very nearly grinned. She looked so adorable as she struggled to overcome her fear.

"Fine," she said after a moment of mental pep talk. "Let's look at the damned snow."

Michael did smile at that statement. "Fine." This woman had faced the strongest vampires and lycans the immortal realm had to offer. Yet she moved with extreme hesitancy toward a single beam of light.

"Don't be afraid," he reassured quietly.

"I'm not." The contempt in her voice only made him smile further.

He got his thick robe for her and made sure the woolen socks he'd put on her earlier would be adequate when he opened the door. She was warm-blooded now, after all. The breeze was sharp as a knife coming from the northwest. He saw her face darken with impatience at his coddling.

Selene let out a frustrated sigh. "Are we going to do this or not?"

Michael grinned broadly as she swiped at his attempt to help her to the door. Without hesitation, he reached for the door's handle and opened it, letting in the light.

.

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_Fin._

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End file.
